Dream Ending
by C.Queen
Summary: Eames and Arthur have had a pretty undefined relationship for years, but all that will change when danger threatens to take away the forger's point man.
1. A Dangerous Job

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think.

Note: Eames's first name and Arthur's last will be taken from the actors that played them in this fanfic.

A Dangerous Job

Eames sat with his back to the wall, eyeing everyone and everything around him in the crowded bar. It was a hole in the wall, the kind of place where half the occupants had been in jail and the other half had just been too clever to be caught. The floors and tables were disgusting and stained, the health code violations numerous, and the thieves even more so. The food and drinks were lethal and health hazards, hence the fact that his drink sat where the scantily dressed waitress had put it.

Glancing down at the untouched glass Eames had to smile a little at himself. Half a decade ago he would have downed it no question, sure of his own toughness and too macho to show basic common sense. Now he was thinking he should have brought a bottle of water with him, the way Arthur would have.

He was getting strange looks from many of the occupants who weren't sure what to make of him. Once upon a time he would have fit right in, but the two years since he'd retired and gone relatively straight showed apparently. But there was still an aura around him that said ex military and badass, which would keep them off his back until his friend arrived.

Though friend was rather pushing it, Eames acknowledged, batting the glass between his hands for something to do. It would be more accurate to say that Dutch was a former comrade in arms who he owed a favor to. It was the owing that had him meeting the man at all since the meeting request probably involved a job of some sort. And if Dutch was asking for help the job had to be one major clusterfuck in the making. The man had his own dream team after all, no pun intended.

Leaning back in his chair Eames hoped he was wrong, but doubted it. And Arthur would not be pleased with him if he took a job that would potentially put his life and reputation at risk again.

Arthur.

Shaking his head Eames slid a hand into his trouser pocket, playing with the poker chip that was his totem while he woolgathered. That was another thing for him to worry about. His relationship with the other man was evolving, evolving to a point where he was fairly sure that the ground rules they'd agreed on at the start of their relationship could no longer apply.

They'd been together for…well fuck him sideways, Eames thought dumbly, taking a chug from his glass before he remembered why it had stayed untouched until that moment. Coughing at the drink's lethal kick, Eames could feel his eyes threaten to water as he tried to hide his reaction to the disgusting liquid he'd just put into his digestive system.

Pushing the glass as far away from his as it would go Eames tried to ignore the taste in his mouth while his thoughts, against his will, turned back to the startling realization that had caused him to drink the vile swill in the first place.

Technically they hadn't been together for six years, Eames reminded himself sternly, though that was when they'd first started sleeping together. But they hadn't been together or exclusive those first four years, when their jobs and travels had kept them apart for most of the year. It was these last two that had seen them together for months on end, rarely leaving each other for more than a couple weeks at a time. They were exclusive now, and they shared a living space and business together. They even had shared pets, two cats named Pippin and Merry. He'd wanted a dog but Arthur had stated that a dog needed a backyard they didn't have and one of their employees had emotionally blackmailed them into taking the two kittens off her hands.

They slept, ate, worked and played together.

According to Dom they were practically married.

Not a turn they had expected, that was for sure, Eames thought as his fingers tightened over his totem reflexively. They had hooked up after their first job together; Arthur had shown up at his hotel room after the job wondering if he could buy him dinner. Up until that moment the point man had shown little interest in him personally, so the invitation had come as a complete shock to him. He'd thought the man was kidding him, that Arthur's sense of humor was so hopeless that the man couldn't do better than that. Arthur's response to his obvious disbelief had been to snog his brains out and drag him to the hotel floor to prove his sincerity.

They'd never gotten to dinner, and come morning Arthur had made it clear that while he had no interest in a romantic relationship, he would be pleased to share a bed with him should the opportunity present itself in the future. And he'd made damn sure there were opportunities, Eames thought with a rakish grin, remembering those stolen times together with a great deal of fondness. The ground rules they'd set had been basic and agreeable to them both. They'd given each other their word that they would remain completely professional when doing business together, to not lie to the other, and to be faithful while they were sharing a bed.

And they'd kept that bargain for six years, with only a few slip ups in the no romance category. Those slip ups were starting to become more frequent and they both knew it. He wouldn't say they loved each other, but there were definitely complex feelings on both their parts now. A lot of complex feelings on his part, Eames thought with a sigh. Arthur was a hard man to read, especially where his softer emotions were concerned. It wasn't that he wanted the man to love him, Eames silently hastened to assure himself, but he thought they were only kidding themselves to pretend they hadn't built a life together.

Lost in those thoughts Eames almost missed the shift in the bar's atmosphere, but training kicked in and drew his attention to the doorway where people were eagerly moving out of a lone man's way.

Dutch.

)

His old acquaintance had aged well, a compact and well muscled army man who had always reminded Eames of a mountain lion. The man had a quiet, lethal grace that hinted with every movement that this was a predator shaped by nature, one that would not go down without bloodshed on a massive scale. He liked the man well enough, but didn't fool himself into thinking that their past acquaintance would keep Dutch from trying to snap his neck like a twig if the man thought he had a reason to. Or was paid to.

"Eames."

"Dutch."

The two men nodding Dutch took a seat to the forger's left, angling his chair as Eames had, so that his back was towards the wall. "Thanks for coming."

Knowing how Dutch felt about small talk Eames got straight to the point. "What do you need?"

A small twitch of the man's lips was the man's only indication that he appreciated the younger man's bluntness. "I've been hired for a job and when I give my word I keep it. As it stands now I won't be able to keep my word and complete the job to my employee's satisfaction."

Eames's surprise was written all over his face. Dutch was not the type to admit defeat, he was very much the die trying type. "Is that why you've called me in? You need a forger?"

The older man shook his head slightly in a small show of annoyance. "I would, but first I'd have to find the target. In a little under a decade seven teams have been hired for the purpose of apprehending and invading the dreams of the individual I'm looking for. Of those seven only two successfully captured him, and they couldn't get past the first dream level before his mind tore them to pieces. The two teams that managed to infiltrate his dreams only got access to him because they knew he'd be at a certain spot on a certain day, after the first two attempts he stopped coming, obviously. He's apparently had excessive training to shield his mind from intruders, it stands to reason his defenses have only been strengthened since then. Not that anyone can find him. The other five teams couldn't find him. My team will be the eighth if we haven't found him by our deadline."

Eames whistled low under his breath. Dutch's brother was one hell of a computer wiz, second only to Arthur in his experience. If this target could hide from the old soldier's brother, the man had some serious skills.

"Exactly. Matthew's devoted himself to the task and he's barely found anything. For all intents and purposes the target ceased to exist after the age of twenty four."

"Okay, so where do I come in then, Mate? That kind of thing is not my strong suit."

"I know. But I kept an eye on you through the years, you were the competition after all, and the rumors are you worked multiple jobs with Excalibur."

Eames blinked, confused for a moment before he remembered that Excalibur was the online name Arthur had used and still did occasionally when he was working solo jobs. In the old days Dom had been the front man when it came to arranging jobs for him and Arthur, rarely even introducing his point man to their employers. But Arthur had occasionally taken computer jobs to supplement their income when needed and had preferred those jobs not to be tied to the work he did with Dom.

And reading between the lines Eames had no problem seeing where this was going. "You want me to contact him and ask him to find your target? Not bloody likely, sorry. Excalibur has retired, as you would know."

"Money wouldn't be an object."

"Money isn't a problem for him." Eames drawled out knowingly. "Give me what you've got on the target and I can pass it along, but I wouldn't hold your breath."

Dutch gave the man a hard look. "You trust him?"

"With my life."

After a couple moments of thoughtful silence Dutch slid a hand into his jacket, taking no offense when Eames tensed up at the action. He'd have thought less of the man if he hadn't. Pulling out a folded piece of paper Dutch tossed it across the table to Eames. "The basics are there. If Excalibur is half as good as they say he is that should be all he needs."

Unfolding the sheet Eames's eyes zeroed in on the name, all his training required as he fought and succeeded to conceal his reaction to the name listed at the top of the page.

Arthur Gordon-Levitt.

Forcing his eyes to read the basics Eames set his jaw as he read the age and physical description of the target, wanting to hit something when he got to identifying marks. There it described the freckles that dotted the man's outer right thigh, resembling Orion's belt in their placement. Marks he had traced with his fingers, mouth and tongue too many times for him to count.

His lover had dropped the Gordon part, but had kept the Levitt.

Refolding the piece of paper Eames shoved the sheet into his pocket, forcing himself to appear ambivalent about the whole thing as he met Dutch's gaze head on, wondering in the back of his mind if this was a test or if they planned to use him as bait. Perhaps they thought he would lead them back to Arthur, either willingly or by force.

"Who hired you?"

If Dutch sensed anything amiss his face and words revealed nothing. "My employer wishes to remain anonymous."

Eames knew better than to push the issue. Dutch wasn't the type who could be goaded or tricked into giving anything away. The man was far too good for that. And staying in the man's company was too dangerous, his emotions were already threatening to break through the surface of his vaguely interested mask. His heart and mind were screaming for him to get back Arthur, he needed to see and speak to the man, to guard and protect his lover from the very deadly and militaristic team that was even now hunting for him.

Getting to his feet Eames held out a hand to Dutch, forcing himself to shake the man's hand. "I'll see if he's interested. Either way, I'll consider my debt to you repaid."

Because if they did find Arthur somehow, he wasn't going to hesitate to put a bullet in their heads.

)

It was almost midnight the next day when Eames arrived in Las Vegas. It stood to reason that if they'd truly made the connection between him and Arthur they wouldn't need to follow him to find the other man, but he wasn't taking any chances. He'd made a brief call to Arthur on their secure line after his talk with Dutch, confirming that his lover was all right and would be in protected lockdown until he arrived home. The former point man hadn't been happy about it, but he'd given his word and Arthur would keep it.

The casino he and Arthur had bought together eighteen months ago wasn't the fanciest girl on the strip, but she was getting there, Eames thought with absent pride. Arthur wouldn't have it any other way. They already had a good, solid rep started, their security tight and a classy atmosphere guaranteed. The class was all Arthur of course, Eames was fairly sure it would have retained its dive look if the other man hadn't been his business partner.

Owning a casino had always been his retirement dream, and he'd never stop being grateful that Arthur had asked to share it with him.

Parking his sports car in his owner's spot Eames locked it up and then headed inside, pleased to see they were busy as he nodded to various employees and regulars. Normally he would have stopped to chat, play catch up, but that would have to wait until tomorrow. For now his only concern was getting to the third level of the building which contained their living quarters.

Heading for the elevator reserved for their use only Eames pressed in the security code, swiping his card and pressing his hand against the fingerprint recognition pad to finish the deal. A little extreme, but they both had powerful enemies to protect against, just in case.

Better safe than sorry tended to be a favorite saying of Arthur's.

When the doors opened into their living room Eames automatically reached out to his left to type in his code. That completed he scanned the area, looking for signs that something might have happened while he was away. Retrieving the gun he'd tucked into his back Eames unlocked the safety and kept it at his side as he silently made his way through the room, taking it all in. He had just finished looking over the space when he sensed a change in the air, a knowing that he was no longer alone.

But knowing who it was Eames kept his weapon pointed at the ground while he turned to meet Arthur's cool gaze. There was a gun in the man's hand as well, its position mirroring his own. The point man wore trousers and had a towel around his neck, he'd obviously caught the man just coming out of the shower.

"You better have a good reason to put me under house arrest, Eames. My assistant isn't trained well enough to be handling the reins for me yet."

Moving with ground eating strides Eames came to a halt in front of the other man, reaching up with his free hand to cup the back of Arthur's head, forcing the point man to move it down so that their lips could meet in a hungry, powerful kiss that spoke of great relief and need.

And picking up on the man's mood Arthur put his gun's safety back on and set it on a nearby table, wrapping his arms around the other man's waist as soon as both his hands were free. Surrendering himself to his lover Arthur offered up whatever Eames needed from him, molding his body to the tougher shape of his man.

When he'd drunk his fill of the other man's mouth Eames reluctantly broke off the kiss, nuzzling his cheek against the other man's before pulling back. "Let me see your arms."

"My arms?" Realizing where Eames was going with this Arthur shook his head at the idea that someone might have invaded his dreams without him knowing. But in the mood Eames was in Arthur knew better than to argue and held out his arms for inspection while the forger turned on the hallway lights and set down his own gun.

Running his fingers over the other man's skin Eames sighed in relief to see no signs of a needle mark. "Good." Looking up to meet the man's questioning gaze Eames worked up a smile as he fluttered his lashes teasingly. "Have I mentioned how stunning you look wet, Darling?"

"Merry knocked a glass of red wine all over me." And not about to be deterred Arthur wrapped his arms around the man's waist again, drawing the man close as his seeking eyes peered into Eames's. "So what's going on? Something happened with Dutch?" To say the man had a dangerous reputation was an understatement. He'd never had the pleasure, and hoped to keep it that way. He had not been pleased to hear that his lover owed the man a favor.

"He's looking for a target and his team can't find him. He's calling in the favor I owe him to pass the search off to you. Dutch hopes maybe Excalibur can succeed where Matt's failed so far."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. He knew Dutch's brother's reputation, the man was highly skilled at what he did. Not as good as him of course, but the hacker had some serious talent. Whoever the target was, Arthur mused, the man must have a great deal of money and resources to hide from such well trained hunters.

"Who are they looking for?"

"You."


	2. Battle of Bodies

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters kind themselves in.

Battle of Bodies

"Me?" Arthur kept his face blank while inside his mind shifted gears, knowing instinctively who was looking for him. If this person was after him because of his job they would have never approached Eames about him and it wasn't as Excalibur for the same reason. Which meant that whoever was after him, was after him as Arthur Gordon-Levitt. The old man was at it again.

And looking up at the man in front of him, seeing the worry the Englishman was trying to hide, Arthur felt the familiar anger and hate well up inside of him for the man who haunted him still. Pushing it back with equal familiarity and skill the point man kept his face calm as he reached up to frame the other man's face between his hands. "You've been worried for nothing, but it's still sweet." And leaning in Arthur pressed his lips against the other man's, deliberately putting heat behind the kiss in the hopes of distracting the forger. For good measure he did the thing with his tongue that made Eames turn to putty, since the forger was obviously upset about the situation.

Oh man, the tongue thing, Eames thought as he groaned low in his throat, sliding his hands up Arthur's chest to his shoulders, just in case his knees gave out. Which they tended to do when the man did the tongue thing.

And not being an idiot the forger knew better than to think the man hadn't pulled out the tongue thing without reason. He was being distracted. And while he enjoyed the attempt, he was unfortunately required to end the tongue play for the moment.

Pulling back with another groan Eames stared up at the man. "Who's after you? You know, right?"

"Nobody you need to worry about."

"This person hired Dutch, yes we need to be worried. You do realize that his team is one of the best not because they have Dom's creativity or your brain power, but because they don't waste much time finessing the information out of the targets. You don't give up the information right away and they will torture it out of you in the dream. And with the time difference…we have reason to worry. And don't you dare say it's your problem and not mine…I will punish you."

"You're presupposing I don't like when you punish me."

Eames's lips twitched in spite of himself. "I've really been a bad influence on you, Darling. And you know what big words do to me, which is why you're using them while filling my head with delicious images of you tied to the bed while I make you squirm and beg for mercy." Brushing his lips against Arthur's Eames looked deep into the other man's eyes. "A name, Arthur. Now."

Arthur couldn't help but squirm a little under the hot look Eames was giving him, which was probably deliberate on his lover's part. He wasn't about to bend on this though, he wanted to keep Eames as far away from his pursuers as possible.

"Look, Eames, this isn't important, nothing will happen. This will be the seventh team he's sent after me. Obviously they haven't been remotely successful in their endeavors."

"The eighth, Darling. Dutch will be the eighth."

Blinking in surprise the news was enough to distract Arthur from the hands Eames was stroking over his ass in his own attempt to manipulate. "Eight? There were eight? He hired a team so incompetent they didn't even register on any of my databases and fail safes? That's not like him. He can afford the best. Are you sure?"

"Or maybe they were better than you and that's why you didn't know." Eames countered, squeezing the ass he was so fond of. "Ever think of that?"

A look of insult crossed the point man's face. "There are very few people who are as good as me, much less better. And if they were that good, they would have followed the breadcrumbs I left that would have led them to believe I was killed in a car accident three years ago. I went to a great deal of effort there and as far as I know no researcher has ever gotten that far which is just pathetic really. And I worked hard to make in believable and documented too. I even used a car crash because he always said that's how I'd die if I didn't stop driving sports cars."

Eames didn't know which surprised him more. That Arthur had faked his own death, or that the man had once driven sports cars. "You still aren't telling me who HE is, Darling."

"Because you don't need to know who he is." Arthur shot back coldly, forcing himself to soften his tone as he nuzzled his face against Eames', reestablishing their connection as he struggled to fix things. "This will be over within the week. Eames. I'll just give you the information that Dutch wants as Excalibur and you can pass on my untimely demise to him. He'll pass it on to his employer and things will not only go back to normal, but Dutch and his team should be the last team ever hired to try and find me. It will kill two birds with one stone."

Realizing Arthur really wasn't going to clue him in Eames swore in frustration. "Dammit, Arthur!"

Biting back some cursing of his own Arthur took a step back so that he could properly stare Eames hard in the eye. "I'm asking you to trust me on this. I'm telling you to drop it."

"Or else?"

"Or else you can sleep on the couch."

Reading the situation correctly Eames struggled to throttle back too, cursing the man's private nature, especially where his past was concerned. "Why do you get the bed, exactly?" He drawled out, forcing himself to breathe and relax his stance for both their sakes. He wasn't going to drop the topic completely, but he wasn't going to be able to protect his man if Arthur was pissed at him. So he'd bend for the moment, but just for the time being, Eames silently swore to the both of them.

"My legs are longer. You can comfortably stretch out on the couch." Arthur pointed out, relaxing his stance as well. He knew better than to think his lover would drop the matter completely, but he would find a way to keep Eames out of his past. And on that note the point man took the step back so that they were against each other. "But I'd rather stretch out with you on our bed tonight."

"I'd rather that too." Wrapping his arms around Arthur Eames pressed his lips back against the point man's, kissing him hard before pulling back slightly. "Let's go to bed."

)

Together the two men picked up their guns and headed for the bedroom, their walks in time with each others' strides after years of practice. Both stowed their respective weaponry on their nightstands, wanting the guns in easy reach, just in case. Arthur knew better than to ask if he could go down to check on how things were going on the main level after the make up sex, he wasn't going anywhere without Eames for at least a week. He wasn't stupid after all, he knew the man was now on protection detail whether he liked it or not. And he would allow it if it meant the questions ended, Arthur decided. He'd have to suck that up, just like Eames had to suck up the lack of forthcoming information.

They would both be adults about this.

While Arthur pushed back their covers Eames stripped off his wrinkled clothes, knowing better than to discard them on the floor for Arthur to comment on later. Discarded clothes in hand the forger stashed the clothes in the hamper before walking back towards the bed, unable not to smile genuinely at the sight of his very naked lover stretched out on their bed, waiting for him with the covered raised. Sliding onto the bed and under the covers Eames crawled over and on top of the point man, head lowering to capture Arthur's lips once more.

Arthur's mouth was hot and inviting, the man's long, strong fingers coming up to slide over Eames's back, stroking the man's dusty gold skin as he sought to awaken nerve endings and needs. The point man shuddered under the skill of Eames mouth and tongue, murmuring his pleasure as he returned the contact with equal skill and desire.

When Eames broke the kisses off he immediately turned to Arthur's neck, feasting his way upward to nibble on the point man's ear, knowing that to be one of Arthur's own weaknesses. Smiling at the way Arthur squirmed and dug his nails in Eames lovingly traced the man's right ear with his tongue, breathing on the wet skin for contrast.

Grinding his hips up against the forger's in slow, rhythmic thrusts Arthur slid his hands down and around so that he could ever so slowly stroke the man's nipples with his thumbs, keeping the pressure light and teasing.

Groaning his approval Eames nipped the side of the man's neck hard, sucking there as he savored the taste of his man's skin and salt. Arthur wasn't a fan of hickies that weren't easily covered up, but tomorrow he was just going to have to deal. Tonight he intended to thoroughly remark the man's body as his property. His treasure he would share with no one. He would let no one take from him, Eames thought as he moved down the other man's body, tongue laving over one of Arthur's nipples with scrapping, drawn out licks. He hadn't bothered to shave earlier, there would be whisker burns in some very interesting places tomorrow too, the forger thought rakishly, deliberately rubbing his whiskered cheeks against the already sensitized nipple.

"Oh, God, do that again." Arthur moaned out, loving the rough caress.

And those moaned words increased in volume and need minutes later when Eames got done tormenting the man's torso and moved lower to nuzzle his face against the younger man's inner thighs, turning his head to swipe at the man's straining erection with his teasing tongue.

Crying out the man's name Arthur could feel his control starting to snap. It always happened when he was with this man like this. The man seduced him every time, mind and body so that all he could think about was more, more, more. More until they were both too exhausted to move.

And even then they often found the stamina some how to keep going, Arthur thought wickedly as his back bowed instinctively, the sensations too much for him to do otherwise. The pleasure was building and building, a tidal wave that was increasing in power and strength with every swipe of Eames's now very misbehaving tongue. God, what the man did to him.

Wanting to come with the man Eames worked his way back up the man's sweaty chest, lapping up the salty taste with pleasure while Arthur's demands rang in his ears. Arthur really was such a bossy bit of goods, Eames thought fondly as he finally made his way back up so that they were once again eye to eye, Arthur's almost black with passion.

"Take me now or I'll have you on your back in seconds." Arthur ordered as he reached up to pull Eames's down for a starving, wild kiss while he opened his legs further to allow the forger to settle more completely against him.

And knowing from experience that the man would do precisely that Eames slid his arms under Arthur's legs, resting them against the vee of his elbows as he widened Arthur even further, slowly easing inside of his lover to draw it out.

Not about to wait Arthur shifted, taking him in deep with a cry of pleasure at the feel of his partner, so hot and hard inside of him, pulsing with need while his own body contracted with those same demands.

"Arthur. Darling." Biting down hard on his lip Eames groaned at the feel of his man, so hot and ready fore him, muscles fighting to keep him locked deep inside him. Panting hard as he whispered his endearment for his lover Eames began to thrust, Arthur's hips moving to take him and stroke his length.

Breathing harsh, bodies hot and gleaming, the two men moved together to keep as connected as possible, Arthur's hands moving over the form covering his own, fingers digging into flexing, corded muscles as he gave himself over to his skilled lover, the act driving all thoughts from his head.

Eames's whispered words changed to a shout of triumph as his body froze and than jerked, coming warm and liquid inside of his man, continuing the thrusts even as he rode out his own climax until Arthur followed him into the mind shattering climax.

Letting go of the other man's legs Eames slumped against the point man, burying his face against the side of Arthur's sweaty neck as he struggled to regain his breath. From past experience he knew the other man could easily handle his weight, or at least handle it until the sex glow had dimmed enough that the man remembered the importance of unhindered breathing, Eames thought wryly, smiling tiredly as he closed his eyes in lazy fulfillment.

When his weight got to be too much Arthur shifted them over and onto their sides, absently reaching down to draw the covers over their hips. Lips curved into a pleased smile Arthur opened one eye when he felt something making its way up his leg. "The cats." He murmured, knowing that where one was the other wasn't far behind. Merry was probably at one of their backs, waiting to exercise his claws. The point man was just thankful the blankets would offer some protection by the time Pippin got to his thigh.

Chuckling lightly at the warning it wasn't long before Eames felt something warm and furry pressed up against the back of his neck, Merry starting to purr like a well tuned engine as he curled up there while his brother got comfy on Arthur's hip.

"They missed you."

"They missed the heat we give off." Eames countered dryly, making a small sound of pleasure when Arthur's hand began to stroke his back under the covers. "I take it you missed me too, Darling."

"You are an excellent heat source." Arthur agreed with a tinge of amusement, giving a mangled yelp when Eames's hand slid low to give his butt a teasing pinch, then rub. "Was that really necessary?"

"Want me to kiss it better later?"

"I'll get back to you on that." Was the point man's purred response.

)

The next day Eames awoke first, mildly surprised to find them still cuddled up against each other. Not their usual sleeping position. Well, not their usual position unless marathon sex was involved, Eames thought with a lazy grin, eyes open and whole body awake thanks to his military training. Arthur normally slept on his side, but he had always preferred his back whenever possible. Not that he was complaining of course, he could get used to waking up like this.

Breathing in their combined scents Eames's eyes lowered to half mast as he absorbed the warmth of the other man's body and the arm Arthur had wrapped possessively around his torso. Nice. Disengaging himself only slightly after several moments Eames shifted up so that his head was level with Arthur's, studying the other man's face in sleep. Most people looked younger when they slept, more relaxed and innocent. Arthur never did though. Occasionally emotion would cross the cute/handsome face, but the word that usually sprang to his mind to describe the point man's sleeping face was calm. Like nothing and no one could penetrate his cool control.

Reaching out to stroke the man's cheek with his calloused fingers Eames's thoughts returned to the situation at hand. Who was after Arthur and why? A job gone bad? That didn't seem likely since if that were the case Dutch would be after Cobbs as well. Arthur had been recruited by Dom, his lover had never worked a dream job without the other man. Couldn't be a computer job gone bad either, because Dutch had asked for help from Arthur's online persona. That left personal. Someone Arthur knew well enough to call 'old man' in that tone of voice wanted his lover captured and his dreams entered. What information did Arthur have in that vault he called a brain? Why didn't Arthur just give up the information if that were the case to save himself the hassle?

The 'old man' wasn't his lover's father, Arthur had let it slip once that the man had died when he was twelve. Step father perhaps? Grandfather? Uncle? Closing his eyes in concentration Eames carefully recalled all the little tidbits Arthur had let slip over the years. He was an only child, mother had remarried when he was fourteen, paternal parents dismissed as idle partiers, maternal grandparents…never discussed, but the sense had been gotten that Arthur didn't care for them. Arthur had never mentioned aunts, uncles or cousins.

What was really annoying was that Arthur knew everything there was to know about him, Eames thought in annoyance. The man didn't work with anyone he hadn't thoroughly researched. The man had said as much when he'd made a crack after their first job that he was surprised a goody two shoes like him would have sex with a virtual stranger. So Arthur knew that he was an only child too, the son of a blackjack dealer and a gambler whose name his mother couldn't remember. He had taken Arthur to England to meet his mum, her parents and his mates several times. He, on the other hand, had never met anyone who was significant in Arthur's life except for Dom, which had been the result of work and not a 'this is the guy I'm seeing' gesture.

"What are you thinking about so hard?"

Opening his eyes again to see Arthur watching him Eames worked up a rakish, carefree grin. "How much I love morning sex. Fancy a go?"


	3. What's Best For You

Disclaimer: As always I hope you enjoy and review.

What's Best For You

Eames sat at the kitchen table with his newspaper, biting into his toast with relish as he enjoyed the combination of crisp bread and melted peanut butter. The breakfast of kings, he thought with a grin, absently glancing in the direction of the fruit bowl in the middle of the table. When his lover was done primping in front of the mirror the forger had no doubt that man would come in and eat a disgustingly healthy breakfast and push some piece of fruit on him before they headed down to the main level. It was a tradition, one he enjoyed in a perverse sort of way. Not only did he get to annoy Arthur by reluctantly letting the fruit be forced upon him, but he had the satisfaction of knowing the man nagged him about it because he cared about his health. A win win situation, Eames thought as he took a sip of his coffee.

Minutes later Arthur entered the room, meticulously dressed to a polished gleam. Watching the point man take in the peanut butter toast and coffee through knowing eyes Eames just grinned at the man as his resigned lover went over to the fridge to retrieve the milk and orange juice. In minutes the man had together a breakfast that would meet all his dietary and health needs, Eames thought in amusement as he studied the breakfast in front of his man, not the least surprised when Arthur pushed a glass of orange juice beside his coffee cup. Accepting the addition with a grimace Eames quickly downed the juice so that he could go back to his coffee.

Arthur would have rolled his eyes if he weren't so used to his lover's dismal eating habits. He didn't like thinking what the man had regularly put in his digestive system before he'd started to regulating Eames's fat, starch, sugar and salt intake. Even a mind as brilliant as his own would probably boggle, Arthur thought as he took a sip of his own juice. He had a sneaky suspicion that Eames knew he'd started to slip vitamins into his food and was counterattacking by upping his coffee intake. The bastard.

"So which piece of fruit are you going to try and force me to eat today?" Eames inquired innocently, looking at the younger man over the rim of his coffee.

"How much crap did you eat while you were out of my sight?"

Eames lips twitched into a very incorrigible grin.

"Figures." Shaking his head Arthur turned his attention to the fruit bowl, his mind counting off the pros and cons of its various offerings.

Reaching out Eames solved the problem by grabbing an apple, rubbing it on his shirt sleeve, and then biting in it with a satisfying crunch. Arthur had been eyeing the peaches, which he seriously disliked unless Arthur was licking the juice off of him, which the man had done one memorable morning during one of their memorable fights over his diet. Come to think of it, he'd gotten away with not eating any fruit that morning as a direct result. That was something to remember, Eames thought with another wicked grin.

Knowing this particular grin well Arthur crossed his arms in front of him. "Don't even think about it, Eames. You've had your morning sex and we're already behind thanks to it. We have a lot of work to catch up on."

Eames slowly dragged his tongue over his top lip. "There's always time for more morning sex, Darling."

Since it wouldn't be the first time the man had talked him back into bed Arthur thought it wise to distract the forger from pouncing on him. Reaching into his pocket the man retrieved a device that resembled a Blackberry but was something else entirely. Setting it on the table Arthur slid it across the table to stop just in front of Eames's crumb covered plate.

Picking up the devise Eames turned it on, confused to see what looked like a blueprint of their personal rooms. "What's this?"

"That blue dot is me. You'll be able to track me on that even if they somehow got me out of this state. Its accuracy will be affected if they get me out of the country, but since they aren't getting me period that shouldn't be an issue. It's connected to this watch, Dom and I have used it a couple times when it was necessary to know where the other was at a moment's notice." Arthur finished off his juice while he watched understanding dawn on his lover's face. He would have preferred the man take his word about the situation, but he knew this would make the other man feel better.

Eames studied the screen and then smiled up at Arthur. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

)

Eames attempts over the next three days to weasel more information out of Arthur proved fruitless. He didn't end up on the couch, but he'd had to use considerable charm a couple of times to keep it that way. To say he was frustrated would be an understatement. Arthur had even let him leave the breakfast table that morning without forcing fruit on him because he'd told the point man he wouldn't eat it until he was told what was going on and who was after his man.

That irritated him more than it should have.

Absently running his hand through his hair Eames moved off to the side, leaning back against the wall as he looked around for a distraction. Maybe he'd join in on a game, use that to take his mind off of things. Win or lose he technically kept his money, so it was all good.

The forger's mental debate with himself was interrupted by the sound of his phone going off. Retrieving it from his pocket Eames studied the readout, his interest piqued when he saw that it was Cobbs's number. He'd forced himself not to call the man to ask him what he knew of Arthur's circumstances, but this did sort of seem like a sign. Opening the phone Eames brought it to his ear. "Hey, Cobbs, how's it going?"

"Not too bad. I'd ask you the same but Arthur's filled me in." The other man's voice was rueful and apologetic. "Which is why I'm calling, Eames. Arthur figured you'd get ahold of me sooner or later, I thought I'd beat you to the punch since I gave him my word I'd let him know if you contacted me about it."

"I knew there was a reason I didn't kill you for nearly sending me into limbo." Eames drawled out, even as he fought back annoyance to have his suspicions confirmed. Arthur had told Cobbs, but refused to tell him.

"Thanks for that. First, just so you know, the only reason I know about the situation is because Arthur got badly drunk one night and spilled most of it for me. He didn't even remember telling me the next morning until I clued him in. That and about a year ago I was contacted about coming out of retirement by the same man that hired Dutch and his team to come after our point man this time. I respectfully declined on mine, Arthur's and yours' behalves."

Eames's eyes narrowed and went cold at the news. "I just need a name, Cobbs."

"And I'd love to give it to you but I gave Arthur my word I wouldn't." It went unspoken that they both knew Cobbs was still not completely forgiven for nearly causing them all to end up in limbo during the Fischer job. His partner and honorary brother would have followed him into limbo without regret, but Arthur had yet to forgive him for risking Ariadne's life, much less Eames's. For risking Eames's life Cobbs wasn't sure his best friend would ever forgive him. And he'd had to accept that. But he couldn't make things worse between him and Arthur, Dom thought with deep regret. He could hardly stand the distance between them already.

"Dammit, Cobbs."

"I know. Believe me I know. But you're just going to have to take what I can give you. He's not in physical danger, Eames. The man who's after him would have made it clear to Dutch that Arthur isn't to be harmed physically. If Dutch harms a hair on Arthur's head he won't get paid and will face grave physical harm himself, if not death. You should know me well enough to know I wouldn't let the man live if he posed that kind of a threat to Arthur."

Eames had to admit that the man spoke the truth. Cobbs wasn't a man given to violence or bloodshed, but he loved Arthur like a brother.

"I told him to tell you." Dom volunteered. "Hopefully he will."

The forger sighed, hearing the doubt in Cobbs's voice. "I shouldn't hold my breath, should I?"

"I wouldn't, no."

)

Arthur sat at the bar, absently sipping his water while he watched the various customers pass by, keeping an eye out for possible trouble. And there was always the possibility of trouble thanks to the uniforms Eames had come up with for their waitresses, the point man thought with a small sigh. The staff had been asked to wear white dress shirts and either black slacks, which he'd picked out, or the short blank miniskirts Eames had voted for. Since showing skin got more tips almost all of the women had embraced the skirts. Straight men were so easy, Arthur thought as he rolled his eyes. And since straight men didn't interest him Arthur didn't mind unless the men didn't take the girls' nos to heart or their angry wives took offense to their hubby drooling over the waitresses.

Pushing back his sleeve Arthur took note of the time, wishing it was his own watch he was wearing instead of the tracking device one. What if someone got close enough to realize it was a fake Rolex?

And knowing how stupid that thought was the point man sighed as his mind turned to his current predicament. Eames wasn't dropping the situation, and probably wouldn't even after Dutch and his team were fired just like all the others. Maybe he'd get lucky and the infamous Dutch would take offense to being dismissed and shoot the bastard. It wouldn't take much to finish the old man off, he'd barely survived his latest heart attack and it was really only a matter of time. It was because of that the old man was willing to risk hiring someone like Dutch in the first place. He was getting desperate. And desperate men were dangerous men, Arthur thought as he drank some more of his ice water.

The infamous Dutch was desperate to find him to completely his contract and protect his sterling rep.

His grandfather was desperate to have him back in the family folds and brainwashed before he expired and the family business went to hell in a hand basket.

That his grandfather thought he would ever come to heel for any reason showed just how much the man had been deteriorating in the years since they'd last spoke. He'd throw himself in front of a train first, Arthur thought bitterly, remembering clearly the moment he'd realized that his grandfather had been serious when he'd threatened to disown him if he refused to cooperate with the plans his grandfather had been orchestrating for him since he was a child. Of course the man had expected him to crumble like a dry sandcastle, which had proven to him once and for all that the man who was his mother's father had never truly seen who he was. He'd walked out on his family, his friends, his lover and his wealth because of the price tag attached to keeping them.

It had certainly been a humbling experience, learning just how little use people had for you when you didn't have the same money and social status as them.

Those were mistakes he intended to never make again.

But even as he thought that Arthur felt familiar, warm eyes on him, eyes that had him looking over to briefly meet Eames's before the man disappeared from view again. Checking once again to make sure that the tracking device was working and accurately depicting where he was in the building no doubt.

Eames.

Logically Arthur knew that his current wealth wasn't why Eames was still with him. He even knew that if he were to lose all his money Eames would still be a part of his life. The problem was that he couldn't say why the man was in his life in the first place, which made him more anxious about their relationship than he was comfortable with. He spent way too much time trying to convince himself that their relationship wasn't evolving far beyond what it had started out as.

Years ago, when Dom had asked him to look into Tom Eames as a possible third for a job they'd been assigned, his research had suggested the slightly older man to be a charming, easygoing rogue who gambled too much but was the best forger in the business. So he'd given his okay and had expected the man to be annoying, but tolerable. And then Eames had walked into the apartment Dom had rented for their job and his world had tilted on its axis.

Eames was the opposite of his type, but one look into those hot, devilish eyes and he'd wanted the man like he'd never wanted anyone before. In that moment he'd actually wanted to grab the man, drag him to the nearest bed, and spend the rest of the week naked with the forger doing things that were probably illegal in some countries.

Of course he'd been mortified by his uncharacteristic thoughts, and had chalked them up to having gone far too long without a lover to take the edge off. So he'd forced himself to remain professional, had ignored the man's friendly overturns, and had treated the forger the way he would any other business associate.

But fate worked in mysterious ways, Arthur thought wryly, and the day of that first job there had been an article in the newspaper that had mentioned...had mentioned He Who Shall Not Be Named. And the reminder of his ex and the way he'd been betrayed had had him thinking that his type sucked and that he'd be an idiot if he didn't at least see what it would be like to pit himself against the man so foreign to his previous tastes but still so desirable.

Even now Arthur blood heated as he remembered that first night with the forger.

"You and Eames have a fight?"

Looking over Arthur smiled faintly in the direction of the waitress who'd spoken. "Not exactly. It would be fairer to say we're at an impasse."

"Well you better un-impasse yourselves real soon." Caro drawled out, her Southern accent just one of her many selling points. The men loved her, and she loved them, especially her two bosses. They treated her right, and she thought of them as honorary brothers. "That fine man of yours is gonna get himself an ulcer if you don't settle him down some."

An ulcer? Crap. That would not be good. Ulcers were irritated by alcohol and spicy food, both of which his lover loved and would not give up without a great deal of bitching. And in just four days he was going to give Eames the information to send to Dutch to cover him, Arthur thought wistfully. He'd been so sure he could hold his man off until then, but what if they didn't accept his faked death? Or even if Dutch did that didn't necessarily mean Eames wouldn't continue to worry about another team being hired later on.

Fuck.

Blowing out an annoyed sigh Arthur couldn't help but recall what Dom had said when he'd called the man about the present situation. His former partner had said he should explain things to Eames if for no other reason than the forger was probably imagining that he was being chased by the mob or some dangerous crime lord bent on bloody revenge. Eames had seen plenty while he was in the military, stuff that still haunted his man even now. Things that had made the man leave the service in the first place.

He was only thinking of himself, keeping his mouth shut, which made him a real assehole by anyone's standards.

"Thanks for the pep talk, Caro. I'm going to go end that impasse."

"You do that, Sugar." Patting her boss's cheek the waitress winked at him as he got to his feet. "And just remember, you're gonna be getting makeup sex out of the deal, which is always worth losing an argument in my books."

Lips twitching in amusement Arthur nodded in acknowledgement of her point.

Making his way through the crowds while he mentally rehearsed what he was going to say, Arthur wished desperately that there was some way for him to avoid dealing with the coming questions. He was a private person by nature, he hated talking about his feelings and problems. They were his problems after all. He was a man, he could damn well take care of any trouble that might come his way, Arthur mentally ranted.

He'd just had to go and hook up with a man even more alpha than him.

Shaking his head over the fact Arthur finally spotted Eames at one of their blackjack tables, most likely losing whatever money he'd had in his wallet. The man rarely broke even, it was almost always one of the two extremes, Arthur thought fondly. The man either hit the jackpot or ended up having to pawn his shoes for extra money. That he adored that about the forger was just one more example of how screwy their relationship was.

Walking over to stand behind the man Arthur set his hands on the other man's shoulders, leaning forward to place his lips against his lover's ear.

"I'll tell you tonight what you want to know."


	4. A Picture's Worth

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters end up in.

A Picture's Worth

After doing his last walk through of the casino Eames said good night to the floor manager and head of security before heading for the elevator to have his little talk with Arthur. He still couldn't figure out what had changed the man's mind, just that he was glad something had. His lover had headed up to their living quarters a half an hour ago, apparently there was set up to be done before the man could tell him who was after him. What the man would need to set up was beyond him, but Eames figured it was just Arthur's need to prepare himself and his spiel in private.

Entering their quarters Eames walked in and headed for the living room, spotting Arthur there on the couch immediately. Coming around the forger stopped dead in his tracks when he saw that there were cords…CORDS…coming out of his huge, beloved flat screen television. Paling slightly Eames's eyes followed the cords from his baby to the laptop Arthur had set up on the coffee table. Lifting his head to meet his lover's slightly amused gaze Eames wasn't in the mood to be teased.

"What are you doing to my TV?"

It took a great deal of control not to laugh at the look on Eames's face. Schooling his features Arthur motioned for the forger to take a seat beside him. "Relax. I haven't done anything that can't be undone. I just needed the bigger screen."

A faint tic was making itself known under his right eye as Eames took the seat, prepared to make Arthur sleep on the damn couch if the man hurt his flat screen in any way.

Keeping a straight face would have been impossible if it weren't for what he was using the man's beloved television for. Leaning forward Arthur tapped a button, ending the screensaver so that his normal background came up. At the bottom were several tabs indicating the various sites he'd access to go along with his presentation.

Seeing where this was going Eames looked over at his lover with an indulgently amused expression. "Darling, I know you love charts and Powerpoint presentations, but I really just need a name and address."

Instead of dignifying that with an answer Arthur clicked on the first link, a photograph taken from a magazine. In the picture the elegantly dressed couple, who were in their early seventies, stared straight ahead, both looking well for their age and possessing an ingrained poise that spoke of old money and breeding. "These are my maternal grandparents. My grandfather, Edward Gordon the Second, is the man who hired Dutch and the others to apprehend me."

"Why?"

Arthur's gaze never left the screen as he explained. "The Gordons are old money; my grandfather nearly doubled what they had when he took over the reins from his father. He and my grandmother had two children together, Edward Gordon the Third and my mother, Elizabeth Gordon Levitt Hillard." Here Arthur brought up the next picture, of a man in his late fifties who looked sad and beaten, unhappiness engraved into his face. "My uncle was naturally in line to take over the business after my grandfather, but the old man put too much pressure on my uncle, asked too much of him. Uncle Edward crumbled under his father's thumb; he started drinking heavily in his late teens and still does. He's in and out of private clinics, but as long as the old man lives I don't see him kicking the habit anytime soon. Uncle Edward and his wife have three daughters, no sons."

The next picture featured another couple, Eames recognizing the woman as Arthur's mother. It was there in the shape of the mouth, the nose. She could also close her face down just like her son, hiding her thoughts and feelings from outside viewers. In the picture her face was a blank and almost lifeless. The man beside her looked like your average Wall Street shark, and Eames disliked the uptight looking ass on sight.

"This is my mother and her current husband, Marcus Hillard. My grandfather has little use for women expect as heir providers, bargaining chips, or status symbols. He ignored my mother for most of her life until he realized that Uncle Edward wasn't going to get any better or produce a son to step into the family shoes."

"She became important because she had you." Eames said softly, pieces falling into place. That was why Cobbs had been so sure no harm would come to Arthur. His lover would be no use to the old man if he were permanently incapacitated or killed. The man didn't want information from Arthur or revenge, he just wanted Arthur. Permanently.

Arthur nodded his head. "And my grandfather, when it comes to family, never learns from his mistakes. He tried to control my life the same way he had controlled my uncle's. He didn't succeed with me though because my father stood in his way. My mother is as much a doormat where my grandfather is concerned as her mother. But my father, who was in general as easy going as you are, was no one's doormat where my mother and I were concerned. I wasn't learning Cantonese at five unless I damn well wanted to learn it."

"He wanted you to learn to speak Chinese at five?"

"Foreign languages are easier to learn when you're younger, and he does a lot of business over there."

"Ah. Do you speak Cantonese?"

"No, though I do know a little Japanese. My father was in the computer business and he designed videogames as a hobby. He was very into Japanese culture and I watched a lot of anime as a kid."

Eames lips twitched in amusement at the idea of Arthur watching grown up cartoons. Then his expression firmed up as he looked over at the other man. "So what you're saying is that I really shouldn't worry because it's your family who's after you. Because that doesn't cut it for me if your grandfather is willing to hire Dutch, Arthur. That says he's seriously desperate to me. And he has to know how stubborn you are so how does he propose to get you back into the family fold for the sake of the Gordon family empire?"

"When he tried to hire Dom it was Inception he had in mind. Before that he intended to pay a team to infiltrate my mind to find out my weak spot, what would drive me to come back into the family fold as you put it. Neither would work of course, but he knows he can't use family, loyalty or money with me. It's occurred to me that he might hope to uncover someone with me that he could use as a bargaining chip, but that hasn't worked for him before. If he found me he might go after you or Dom, but you can both handle yourselves and he should know me well enough to know that I would come at him with extreme prejudice were he to manage to catch either of you. And though I'd trade myself for one of you, he should know me well enough to know I'd make him sorry he did. A lot of the times I think he's doing all this to irritate me into doing what he wants just to stop his harassment."

Eames didn't beat around the bush. "Would he kill you for destroying all he's built by refusing to take over for him?"

Arthur forced himself not to react, having hoped the man wouldn't ask that question. But he had to be honest, he and his lover had a deal. They didn't lie to each other. "I don't know."

"Why don't you face him and have it out with him?" Arthur wasn't a beat around the bush type. There had to be a reason Arthur was allowing the man to influence his life to this degree. Though he'd kept his names, Eames thought, having noted that before. The names that mattered Arthur had refused to give up, even knowing they could lead trackers straight to him.

His lover's answer was blunt and sharp with hate. "Because I want him to keep trying to find me so that he doesn't sell off the company the way he should. I want him to die knowing his legacy will be destroyed because he disowned the one family member who could have saved it."

Eames reached out and cupped his lover's cheek. "Some Greek guy, whose name escapes me, once said that before seeking revenge you should dig two graves."

"That would be Confucius, who was Asian, and you're paraphrasing." Arthur returned, setting his hand overtop of Eames's as he looked the forger straight in the eyes. "And you should only dig those two graves if you devote yourself to getting your revenge. I'm not doing anything. My life now is about you and our business together. And that's the way I want it. Me reading the stock market and enjoying the stock failures just adds spice to my life."

Leaning forward Eames's pressed his lips against Arthur's, drawing back only a little so their breaths mingled. "And what we have is what you want."

"Absolutely." And now Arthur returned the gesture, pressing his lips against his lover's in a brief, soft kiss before pulling back. "And now I'll unhook my laptop from your flat screen. I just wanted to blow the images up enough so that if you were to see them you'd recognize them. And I wanted to freak you out a little about me using your baby." He added with a gleam in his eyes. "You love that flat screen as much as I love…organizing things." Arthur finished lamely, his mind reeling over what he'd almost said. Thank God he'd caught himself.

Blinking, Eames wanted to ask the other man what he'd meant to say instead, but he knew his lover well enough to know that Arthur would wiggle out of answering somehow. And he had a feeling there was a lot more to the story that his man wasn't telling, but he was willing to take what he could get for the moment. And Arthur was done discussing his family, Eames could see it in the other man's eyes. But there was one thing he was going to ask for before the laptop was unhooked from his baby.

"Got any pictures of your dad in there?"

Arthur blinked in surprise, and then his lips curved into a small smile. "Yeah."

)

While he watched Arthur clicked close all the other links and then his lover accessed his own personal files. Everything was neatly labeled to an anal degree, Eames noted in amusement, even as he quickly read the names on the files in the picture's section. There were file folders for Ariadne, Dom, Arthur's father, himself and- and his man clicked on his father's folder before he could read the rest. But he'd get to those later, Eames thought, even as he laughed out loud at what had come onto the screen. "Darling, I need to spend more time getting you naked. You have way too much time on your hands."

Arthur looked at the screen, seeing it through Eames's eyes. He had divided his photographs of his father into various categories as well, making it easy for him to locate any picture he might want to view. To him it was efficient and well organized, to Eames a navy sock and a black sock were basically the same thing.

Lips twitching Arthur accessed the file he'd labeled as 'Favorites' and put it into slideshow mode.

A smile still on his face Eames settled back to watch the show with his lover, his arm around Arthur's shoulder. He could definitely see that the two men were related, though the man he now knew as Arthur's father had an open, smiling face in all of the pictures. But then again, in all the pictures of a young Arthur, the boy was making the same sorts of faces as his father. Their bond was obvious in every photograph, and in the pictures featuring Arthur's mother she looked just as happy as the main men in her life. Nothing like the woman had in the earlier picture.

At his request Arthur accessed more pictures and they were mostly done going through the next set when Arthur's phone signaled a text message. Pulling it from his pocket Arthur studied the readout. "The cash register in the bar has gone down and they can't get it to come back. It shouldn't take me long to fix."

"Hurry back." The look he gave his point man said plainly Arthur was not to leave the building for any reason or else.

Arthur just smiled and nodded.

Eames waited until Arthur was in the elevator before he grabbed the laptop mouse to stop the present slide show and started backtracking. There had been a file folder entitled '1st Con' in Arthur's father's file folder that interested him. Clicking on it Eames's interest was further piqued when he clicked on the file and saw that there were two files in it, one entitled pictures, and the other a video link.

Clicking on the video one Eames sat back to watch.

Arthur's father appeared on the screen, dressed in clothes more suited to kid than a man over twenty. The oddly dressed man grinned into the camera and informed whoever was running the machine that this was the first convention he would be taking his son Arthur to. The camera lowered down and there was Arthur, or at least Eames assumed it was Arthur. A three year old Arthur dressed in a strange yellow costume that made the red cheeked boy vaguely resemble a rabbit.

In the video Arthur's father squatted down to put himself closer to his son's height. "Now as you can see my adorable son here is dressed as the much loved Pokemon who kicks all other Pokemon's rear ends. And being the brilliant boy I know and love, Arthur already has his lines learned, don't you, Arthur?"

Bouncing up and down Arthur nodded, his yellow ears tipped in black bouncing with him as he delivered his lines with glee. "Pika! Pika! Pikachu!"

Eames didn't even hear the rest of it, he was too busy laughing so hard he was afraid he'd bust a rib. Using the mouse the forger replayed the scene over and over again before it occurred to him that Arthur was not going to be willing to show him this again. So he accessed his email and quickly sent himself the file so that he could watch Arthur impersonate a Pokemon anytime he wanted to.

Lips still twitching Eames decided to check out who else Arthur had pictures of besides the ones he'd spotted earlier, in case Arthur got the jump on his. And as it turned out there were files labeled for Merry and Pippin, but that was it in the main picture folder. There were no folders for any other member of Arthur's family, or people he didn't know through Arthur.

Letting that turn around in his head Eames accessed his own file, not surprised to see that his photographs had been broken up into categories too. He was surprised to see that one of them was labeled as 'Before Eighteen', but figured he had his mother or grandmother to thank for that. And it made him happy to know Arthur would want them. The other files were divided into individual photos, family photos, couple photos, misc and…and one labeled 'Private'.

Raising an eyebrow Eames moved the mouse to access that last one, both eyebrows hitting his hairline when a box popped up demanding two passwords.

Okay, Eames silently drawled out as he stared at the box. Now what did he have here? Why would Arthur password some pictures?

Unless of course…well…well…well.

A wide, rakish grin splitting his face Eames suddenly had a very good idea what could be in that particular file. He was learning all sorts of interesting things about his lover tonight.

Opting to look at more pictures while he waited for Arthur to return Eames accessed the file folder labeled 'Couple' to pass the time with. The first picture caught his attention enough that he didn't bother using the slide show feature, clicking on it so that he could get a better look.

Eames had never seen the picture before; Dom had to have taken it. It was of him and Arthur in side by side lawn chairs, he recognized them from their third…no forth job together. They were out, the arms draped over their chests hooked up to the machine. But their other arms….were hanging over the side of the chairs, their fingers linked together between them. There was no way they would have done that before being hooked up, so sometime during whatever dream they'd been in they'd reached out for each other.

"My favorite picture of us. Dom took it and gave it to me afterwards." Arthur said as he came around the couch, taking his former seat beside the man.

"I'd like a copy of it."

"Sure." Arthur smiled at the picture, relaxing against his man's side. "Any others you want a copy of?"

"Probably. I've just started looking at these. I am interested in knowing about the pictures you have in my file that require a password. Why is that exactly?"

Arthur's lips twitched ever so slightly. It had occurred to him while he was downstairs that there were some pictures and files on his laptop that he'd prefer the other man didn't get a look at. But everything seriously private was passcoded and Eames was no hacker.

"You're welcome to try and get at what's in there."

Grinning Eames leaned in and placed kisses up the side of his man's neck. "Or you could just put in the passwords so that I can see for myself what sort of pictures you took of me while I was unaware."

Arthur grinned as he tipped his head to the side, his eyes closing in pleasure as Eames nibbled on his ear lobe. "I don't think so."

Eames moved his hand to massage and knead Arthur's thigh. "Something to keep you warm while I'm away?"

To the forger's delight Arthur shifted over and straddled him, the point man's hands reaching out to undo Eames's shirt buttons. "No, I don't use them to get warm." Pushing the shirt away from his lover's skin Arthur's fingers spread over the man's six pack. Leaning forward Arthur placed his lips against the man's ear. "I use them to get me more than just a little warm, Lover."


	5. New Information

Disclaimer: As always we'll own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in.

New Information

Using a penlight Eames enjoyed driving the kittens crazy, watching them jump all over each other as they tried to capture the small dot of light he made whiz all over the rug and furniture. He could do it almost as long as the kittens were willing to chase. Of course at the moment he was supposed to be doing something else but the forger figured he'd earned a little break. The paperwork would still be there when he was done after all, Eames thought as he pointed the penlight at Merry so that Pippin tackled his brother.

Their fun was interrupted by the sound of his cell phone going off. Since the ringtone was generic it wasn't number in his database. Which meant that Arthur hadn't realized he was slacking off yet. Pulling out his phone Eames studied the number, recognizing it as the one Dutch had used before to contact him. Taking a deep breath Eames accepted the call and put it to his ear as he set aside the penlight.

"Hello, Dutch."

"Eames. Did you talk to Excalibur?"

Let the smooth lying begin, Eames thought as he rolled his shoulders reflexively. "Yeah. He's putting together a report for you, but according to him your target is dead. Sorry. But at least you can tell your client you found him."

"Matt found that info too. We were both hoping he was wrong though. He said there was something about it that felt a little off so…but if Excalibur thinks it's correct it must have been wistful thinking on Matt's part. Damn. If I'd known it was going to be like this I would have taken the stepfather's offer too."

"Stepfather's offer?"

"Yeah. The target's stepfather offered me money to give him a heads up if we found the target, twice what my employer is paying if we'd take the target out. I'd already given the client my word to do things his way though. If I'd known it was going to end like this I would have taken the stepfather's money too."

"That's hindsight for you." Eames agreed, even as his eyes went cold and flat.

"Have Excalibur send the info to us so the client knows we even got a second opinion. I consider the favor paid in when I get it."

It took all of his willpower not to tell the other man what he could do with the information Arthur was going to put together for him. "Fine. Later, Dutch."

"Later."

Pressing the end button on his phone Eames leaned back against the couch, staring off into space while the cats crawled all over him in a bid to get his attention. But more important things had his attention for the moment and he was barely even aware of their presence.

He was still sitting there when Arthur exited the elevator and walked into their living room.

"I had a feeling I would find you up here." Arthur said as he walked over to stand directly behind the couch, looping his arms around his lover. "You decided to take a break from the paperwork you know I'll have to do for you if you don't finish it within the next two hours. What do you have to say for yourself?" He added, leaning forward to nip the forger's ear.

Eames continued to stare straight ahead as he answered. "Dutch called. Apparently his brother found the information indicating you were dead too. They were just hoping you'd uncover something different."

Setting his chin on top of the other man's head Arthur considered the emotionless statement that had warning signals going off in his brain. Something had happened during the phone conversation, something bad. "But I didn't, which is what you told them, right?"

"Right. Dutch also told me that he had a meeting with your stepfather too. That Hillard offered him money to off you once you'd been located instead of turning you over to your grandfather."

Ah, that would be the bad news, Arthur guessed. Not that the news honestly surprised him. His stepfather was more capable of running the family business than Uncle Edward was. It stood to reason then that his grandfather would either leave it in his stepfather's hands or his uncle would just turn it over to him without protest if the old man left it to him instead. But that was only if he wasn't in the equation. Everyone knew he was the one his grandfather wanted to leave the business to. In other words, he was the only real barrier his stepfather had to getting everything the bastard had always wanted.

"Obviously he'll be getting the news that I'm dead too. I don't see the problem."

"You don't see the problem?" Shifting around on his knees Eames stared at the younger man in furious disbelief. "Your stepfather wants you dead and you don't have a problem with that?"

Shrugging his shoulders Arthur belated realized he needed to treat this more seriously when the other man glared at his flippant response. "I've always known how he felt about me. He could never fool me in that regard. To my knowledge this is the first time he's attempted to pay someone to kill me, but I always knew he'd consider my death a cause for celebration."

"And your mother married this fucker?"

"She basically died when my dad did. What's left of her…doesn't care about anything so long as she isn't expected to feel anything."

With long practice and skill Eames set a hand on the couch and vaulted himself over it so that he could stand in front of Arthur as the man turned to face him. Reaching out the forger framed his lover's face between his hands, fingers stroking the smooth skin as he stared into the taller man's eyes. Arthur's shields were up but Eames saw enough to know that the other man believed what he was saying. The point man thought his own mother cared nothing for him, to the extent that she would marry a man who would wish her son dead.

Reading the man's face easily Arthur moved closer, wrapping his arms around the man's waist so that they were chest to chest. "You can quit looking at me like I was kicked to the curb and forced to live on the streets when she remarried, Eames. I've never been poor and until my early twenties I had ever material advantage there was to be had. And I had twelve good years with my parents…that's more than a large percentage of the population can say about theirs."

"Doesn't make me want to kick the bastard's ass any less. And your mum's for that matter."

The brief look that crossed Arthur's face suggested he understood the sentiment very well. But he'd made his peace with his lack of relationship with his mother years ago, and he could care less about his stepfather.

"What if your stepfather doesn't believe you're dead and hires someone else to find you?" Eames wanted to know.

Leaning forward Arthur brushed his lips against the forger's. "If you find evidence that he's hired another hit squad to come after me you have my permission to go and kick his ass, how about that?"

Pressing his forehead against Arthur's Eames's face was in alpha male mode. "I'll do more than just kick his ass, Arthur."

Having never doubted that Eames would kill for him Arthur simply nodded, silently acknowledging that fact. And the fact that if his stepfather's blood ended up on the forger's hands he wouldn't censor the man for it. He'd do the same in the other man's shoes.

Running his hands up and down the man's arms Arthur kept up the touch until he could see that Eames was calm enough not to need the physical reassurance. "We need to head back downstairs, it looks like we're going to be extra busy tonight. We can plot my stepfather's untimely demise later, okay?"

"Okay." Eames agreed, stealing one last kiss before letting his man herd him out of the room towards the elevator.

)

It was nearly midnight when Arthur found himself being hailed down by a member of their security. Motioning the man to follow him into a corner so they wouldn't be overheard Arthur was amused to find out that the matter the man wished to discuss was that Eames had apparently gotten himself trapped at a table with some of their senior guests. A group of little old ladies who were refusing to let his forger leave their table apparently. Eames had covertly flagged down the security guard to ask him for some help ten minutes ago without success. Unfortunately the man wasn't as good looking as his boss and didn't possess the man's British accent, so the elderly women weren't willing to let them make the switch.

Now, apparently, it was Arthur's turn to come to the man's rescue.

Doing his best not to smile Arthur took on the assignment with cool assurance and headed for the bar area, spotting his man right away. The Englishman was surrounded by women who were all old enough to be his grandmother, and who seemed to be fighting for the forger's undivided attention. One even had her arm slipped through Eames's, likely to keep him from an easy escape.

Turning his unavoidable laugh into a cough Arthur struggled to keep a straight face as he took in the scene, allowing himself a small smile when Eames looked over in his direction, obviously having sensed his presence. Lifting a hand the point man wiggled his fingers in the other man's direction, enjoying the situation the forger had found himself in.

Watching Eames smoothly detach himself from the woman Arthur observed with interest as his lover said something to the women that had all of the ladies turning their white heads to look in his direction.

Uh oh. That couldn't be good.

Wary now Arthur couldn't shake the feeling of impeding trouble as his always devious lover got out of his seat and walked over towards him while his former companions watched them with obvious interest.

"Eames." Was all Arthur got out before he suddenly found himself being dipped backward like something out of a movie as Eames kissed him in a way that was designed to make his toes curl, his eyes see stars, and his blood boil like exploding magma.

Clutching the other man's shoulders desperately for support Arthur couldn't think, just feel as he held on for dear life while Eames ravished his mouth so that he forgot about their audience and was incapable of hearing the catcalls, hoots, and comments their actions were causing from everyone around them.

He even missed the flashes as several of the women pulled out cameras to take pictures.

Kissing his lover until he knew he had to stop for sanity's sake Eames slowly drew back, straightening them as he nuzzled his cheek against Arthur's with a purr of satisfaction. Turning his head the forger placed his swollen lips against the other man's blushing ear. "I know I'm not supposed to do that when we're working, but they wouldn't believe I was both gay and taken."

Leaning against the man for support Arthur blinked. "Wha?"

Chuckling at the dazed tone of voice Eames repeated his words again. "Apparently my lack of ring means I'm fair game."

"Ah." Slowly regaining brain function Arthur blinked a couple times and then pulled away, working up a censoring look even as he tried to remember why dragging the man to the floor and stripping him naked was currently a bad idea. "You must really be slipping, Eames, if you can't get away from a few old women. Where's your pride as a man?"

"Say that to me after you've been hit on for over twenty minutes by women old enough to be your grandmother." Eames shot back, leaning forward to nip the man's lower lip for the hell of it. "And the one who looks like Betty White is a real cheek pincher. Only she hasn't been pinching the ones near my mouth, Darling. My ass is currently black and blue."

Lips twitching again in amusement Arthur looked over at the women and then back at Eames. "Well your ass is my exclusive territory."

"Damn right it is." Eames agreed, sensing that Arthur was going to provide him with a way out.

"Serves you right for being too hot for your own good. You and that English accent of yours." Arthur murmured as he pressed his lips against his lover's in a caress meant to soothe the hot flames Eames's had stroked in their blood. And he just wasn't ready to turn the man loose yet, now that Eames had had to go and get him all stirred up, Arthur admitted quietly to himself.

"I curse Ian Flemming every day." Was Eames's deadpan response.

Chuckling Arthur took one of Eames's hands and brought it to his lips. "Go run away, Brit. I'll take over here for you."

"Thanks, Darling."

Winking Eames took off before his man could rethink the offer.

)

An hour later Arthur went hunting for Eames, making a concentrated effort not to rub his rear end which was loudly protesting the fact that it had been pinched. Several times. By a woman who really did look like Betty White. Shaking his head over the fact Arthur still marveled over the fact that her aggressive behavior had turned out to be a result of a disagreement the woman, whose name was Lizzy, had had with her beau. Apparently the man, who'd looked to be over eighty, had gone off to see a Vegas show with some of the other men and she'd decided to get her revenge by hitting on him and Eames. The old man had actually accused him of trying to steal his girl!

Only truly excellent manners had kept him from telling the man otherwise.

She'd been a nice enough woman though, pinching aside. They all were. It would have been nice if they hadn't been so interested in his and Eames's relationship, but after the little show his lover had put on Arthur couldn't really blame them for being nosey.

Wandering over towards one of the blackjack tables Arthur just managed to bite back a curse when his rear end, yet again, was pinched from behind. Turning around with a fixed smile on his face Arthur's polite greeting turned into a scowl when he saw who his pincher was. "Very funny, Eames."

"Heard through the grapevine that she was testing yours out too, Darling." Grinning wickedly Eames wiggled his eyebrows at the other man. "So what did you think of them?"

"I think their activities instructor is slipping them something on the side that has them forgetting they aren't teenagers anymore."

"Well given how much medication one has to take at that age it wouldn't be bloody hard to slip them a little something, something." Eames agreed, stroking his chin in mock seriousness. "But I'd imagine being in Sin City has something to do with it too. Maybe we have something in the water? We do have more sex now than we ever did in any other city or country."

Now Arthur had to roll his eyes. "And the fact that before we moved here we were never in each other's company for longer than a few weeks has nothing to do with that?"

"Details, details." Amused at both of them Eames's face went serious again as he reached out and took the other man's hand in his. "So care to make my rounds with me?"

Lacing his fingers through his lover's Arthur nodded, falling into step with the older man as they made their way through the room, greeting the regulars and introducing themselves to the new, stopping to watch games as they kept watchful eyes for cheaters and card counters. The two even joined a game or two, Arthur doing better than Eames by virtue of the fact that he didn't take risks and was excellent at reading his fellow players. Eames was always more likely to reach the big score, but Arthur always broke even at the very least.

It reflected how they were about life too, Eames mused as their dealer dealt them another hand. And it wasn't like either of their methods was wrong, they just weren't the same. He would always trust his gut and luck a little too much, and Arthur would always be a little too defensive and cautious. In the end they balanced each other out because they were a team. The best team he could ever be part of.

"Since you haven't even looked at your cards I don't see why you're so pleased with yourself." Arthur murmured as he arranged his own deck, looking over at his lover questioningly. His hand was decent enough so far.

"I haven't looked at these cards." Eames countered, picking up what he'd been dealt so that he wouldn't hold up the game. "But in the deck of life I've been dealt a high royal flush."

Going all warm and gooey in spite of himself Arthur had to smile. "Then I guess you'll get the pot and live a rich man."

"The richest." Leaning over Eames pressed a quick kiss on the other man's lips. "For luck."

Arthur's curving against the other man's, pulling back after a moment. "No displays of affection while we're working. That's twice now. You're really racking them up today, Eames. Eager for punishment?"

Eames's gaze was direct as he pulled the homing device from his pocket, indicating that he was still using it. "I think I've earned me some extra loving today, don't you?"

"Yeah, I guess you have." Arthur slowly agreed, and leaned forward to give the man another kiss. "Now let's play what we've been dealt."


	6. More To Learn

Disclaimer: As always we'll own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in.

More To Learn

As per usual Eames did his walk through of the main floor and then headed up to bed after making sure that everything was in order. Heading into their bedroom Eames took immediate notice of the fact that Arthur was wearing a T-shirt, which meant that the man was wearing boxers, which normally indicated that the other man was angry with him. Arthur knew he preferred him naked and hated having clothing separating them when they were in bed together. Searching his mind for something he'd done Eames undressed, shooting considering looks at his man who seemed content to stroke Pippin while Merry crawled around the bed.

Naked, Eames slid under the covers and shifted over to lie on his side, looking at the other man questioningly. "So what did I do?"

"Is that a guilty conscience speaking?"

"You're wearing clothes. I must have done something wrong tonight."

Amusement plain on his face Arthur lightly tossed Pippin down to the end of the bed and then shifted so that he was lying on his side as well, moving in closer so that their noses were practically touching. "I told you that if you wanted to discuss my step father we would. I didn't want you to think I was distracting you by snuggling up to you naked."

"Hmmm." Brushing his lips against the other man's Eames appreciated the thought, even as he didn't appreciate the fact that he had to slide a hand under the man's shirt to stroke his lover's back. "I like naked discussions."

"I know you do."

But this was a serious discussion so Eames contented himself with stroking the man's back as he spoke. "I can't go and warn him off myself because you're supposed to be dead. If I kill him that draws unnecessary attention to us, and if you wanted him dead you'd have done it yourself years ago. It pisses me off that he'll get what he wants when he gets the news that you're dead, but he'll lose the company according to you and everyone will know it was his fault. That he couldn't do what you could have. So we leave him alone unless he doesn't buy you being dead. If your step hires someone separately to come after you I'm taking him down. I'll leave him alive, but he won't be physically up to doing anything but vegetate after I'm done with him. Deal?"

Arthur considered and then nodded his head in agreement. "Deal."

"That was easy. Why are you giving in so easily?"

Not taking offence, Arthur brushed his lips against the forger's again. "I'm trying to turn over a new leaf. This is important to you, so I'm trying to put my male pride on the back burner. Don't expect me to make a habit of it." He added, warning in his voice.

"So you not telling me about your past is all about not wounding your poor male pride?" Eames said slowly, his disbelief written all over his skeptical face.

"It's one of the reasons." Arthur returned, reaching out to run his thumb across the forger's bottom lip. "You haven't exactly given me a list of all the people who want you dead either. And don't say I know them all already, because while I do you've never asked me to confirm that. We're secretive people, you and I. Our past professions made that necessary. And I've always been a private person. I don't come running to you ever time my past comes back to haunt me…and neither do you. We're both alpha males."

The point man's words were hard to argue with. He didn't like them, but they were true enough. So Eames decided to go with their various game plans, let the past sleep for the night, and get cozy with him man instead. Sliding an arm under Arthur Eames wrapped his arms around the other man and rolled over so that the point man was lying on top of him. "Would you feel better about spilling your guts if I let you take top position more often?"

"Since when do I need your help to dominate you?" Crossing his arms in front of him the point man grasped his hem and jerked his shirt up and over his head, tossing it to the floor before leaning down to capture the forger's lips with him own.

)

As planned Eames sent off the information Arthur put together to convince Dutch of his target's untimely demise. The point man's step father wasn't mentioned again, and both men hoped that Arthur's past wouldn't be coming back to bite them both anytime soon. And everything was looking good until a little over a week after the packet of information was sent to Dutch.

It was midway through the day when Eames was hailed over his earpiece, one of his men informing him that there was a woman at the front desk asking to see Arthur. When he'd first learned about the trouble possibly coming his lover's way he'd given the order that he was to be notified anytime anyone asked for his man specifically. He'd forgotten to rescind that order, which, his gut was now telling, was a good thing.

Informing the other man that he was on his way Eames made his way through the crowds with a predator's grace and focus.

Spotting the lone woman waiting by the front desk Eames could definitely picture her as a hired assassin. Most straight guys would probably line up to be killed if it meant she was the last thing they saw before they died. She actually sorta resembled the blonde bombshell he'd sometimes used as a distraction in dream jobs. Except for the clothes. His female version had much better taste in clothes, Eames thought after a thorough, head to toe study. What she was wearing was just too…perfect. Everything just so. Way too pressed and planned for his tastes.

Obviously sensing his gaze the woman turned and looked in his direction, studying him back for a moment before turning to say something to his man at the desk. Then she was walking towards him with a take charge stride that said to the forger that this was a woman who got things done and bulldozed over everyone that got in her way.

When she came to a stop in front of him the blonde held out her hand, her grip soft but firm. "It's Mr. Eames, isn't it?" The woman asked with a politely curious look on her face, though Eames sensed he was being measured and carefully evaluated.

"It is. And you are?"

"I'm Felicia Ledger." A small smile teased the blonde's pink lips when he didn't react to her words. "And that name means nothing to you, am I right?"

Eames did not like the look of that smile one little bit. "Should I know you?"

There was a gleam in the woman's blue eyes as she moved her shoulders in a faint shrug. "I thought you would. But then again, perhaps I'm wrong about you and your relationship with the man I came here to see. I asked for him specifically but the man at the desk called you instead of Artie. Are you his bodyguard as well as partner?"

"Artie?"

She laughed at his tone and expression. "Arthur. He and I were hated rivals when we were younger, and I called him that and a number of other hated nicknames to annoy him. Since I was a girl he had to let me get away with it you see. Had I been born a man I would imagine he would have punched me out for it long ago."

So she was someone from Arthur's past. Someone who was being very upfront about the fact that she didn't like his point man one little bit. Unfortunately his idiot of a lover hadn't mentioned this woman to him before so Eames had no idea just how much of a problem the woman was going to be and why she had come, or why Arthur was important enough to have come all this way to see.

Or how she'd found Arthur in the first place when no one else had been able to.

"So just why were you and Arthur hated rivals?" Eames asked casually as possibilities ran through his busy mind, more information needed. "What were you fighting over?"

"A man." Was her simple, direct response. "But you obviously don't know a thing about him either, since my last name would have tipped you off as to who I was if Arthur had told you about Michael."

Oh yeah, he definitely wasn't going to like this woman. But Eames couldn't help it, the bait she'd thrown out was just too tempting for him not to bite. He knew even less about Arthur's love life before him then he had the point man's family. "So you won the man in the end?"

"Only in a roundabout way." And now a hint of brittleness came into the woman's cultured voice. "Arthur never really considered me his rival because he knew that Michael loved him. The man always was a romantic, and back then at least he believed that love really did trump everything else, even in our world. But I didn't steal Michael from your man, my husband simply chose money over Arthur when my father in law made it clear that Michael would be cut off financially if he didn't leave Arthur and marry me. Stupid really, since anyone who knew Arthur knew that he could easily support himself and Michael once he'd recovered from being kicked out of HIS family for choosing love over money…but Michael wasn't smart enough to realize that until it was too late. So he married me. We have two children…and I think he showers more love and affection on the ugly dog Arthur gave him for his birthday the year they split up."

"Ouch." And the ouch was as much for himself and Arthur as it was for the woman. The idea of Arthur loving another man hurt him like hell, to a degree that had Eames calling on most of his self control to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself. But he'd spent too much time in the military and underworld to not know how to compartmentalize his pain until it was safe to deal with and analyze.

He was not looking forward to later.

Being thrown over for money had to have hurt Arthur like hell too, Eames thought as he continued to study the woman before him. The woman who had gotten what she wanted only to discover that she'd gotten the raw end of the deal in the end.

And though it was small, stupid and petty of him….Eames couldn't help but be pissed that Arthur had gotten this Michael guy the dog Arthur had said HE couldn't have.

Both heard the sound of familiar footsteps then, the two turning their heads to watch Arthur coming towards them looking both together and completely remote. Like no emotion had ever entered those eyes or been felt in his heart.

The man looked cold and unconquerable.

Pulling herself together first Felicia wiggled her fingers in the point man's direction. "Hello, Artie. Long time, no see."

"The pleasure, no doubt, will as always be yours, Felicia. What are you doing here and how did you find me?"

"I came here to talk to you and your Mr. Eames. I assume you have an office where we can talk?"

"Follow me."

)

The three rode up the elevator to Arthur's office in silence, Eames standing at his man's side in a united front. He didn't think that the woman had come to hurt Arthur or see that he was forced back into the family he hated. She'd want Arthur as far away from her beloved Michael as possible, Eames thought darkly, fighting back the urge to put his hands on the point man to make his claim known. They couldn't know how much she knew about him and his relationship with Arthur, though he got the sense that she was aware that they were lovers.

Once they arrived at the office Arthur motioned for Felicia to take a seat while he walked around his desk to take his seat, Eames moving to stand on the man's left side, prepared to defend his lover if necessary.

"Your taste in men has seriously changed, Artie."

Arthur's face revealed nothing as he answered her. "For the better. Yours didn't."

"Ohh, so cold. You've changed…for the better perhaps." The blonde acknowledged with a slight nod. "And I might as well begin by stating the obvious. I'm not here to turn you over to your grandfather or any of the goons he's no doubt hired to try and find you. I wasn't going to come at all but my…pride and curiosity got the best of me I suppose."

"How did you know where to find me in the first place?"

Now Felicia's lips curved into a real smile. "As you know the only thing I have resembling a profession is my charity work. I was visiting a retirement home a few days ago, one of my foundations is providing them with a new recreation center. There was a mural of photographs hanging up on one of the bulletin boards, pictures taken recently at a trip to Los Vegas. I almost didn't recognize you. I couldn't be sure what I saw in the picture was real though. I just had to come see with my own eyes."

This was one of the few times it wasn't good to be right, Arthur thought as he folded his hands in front of him. He'd always known that the one way he could be found was if someone took an image of him that fell into the wrong hands. Plastic surgery had never been an option in his mind because he refused to change his face, erase those genetic markers his father had left him for the sake of a little more insurance against detection. He'd long ago decided that he'd rather be found.

"Why would your pride demand you come?" Eames asked while Arthur contemplated her possible angles. He too had known that Arthur's refusal to change his name or his appearance in any big way could be the other man's undoing, but understood why his lover had held onto them.

Felicia crossed her legs in front of her. "Because as small and pathetic as Michael is he's gotten by all this time by telling himself that Arthur has to be more miserable than he is. And I thought that he'd be right to think so given that your man has more emotionally depth than Michael and I put together. Then I saw the picture of the two of you and knew that that wasn't the case. I won't tell Michael he's wrong, it's enough for me to see you two together and know that you're completely over him and happy here. You always were the best of the three of us, Artie. Though once we're out of this room I'll deny I said that until my dying breath."

"You were worried I'd come back and take him from you?" Arthur asked, genuinely curious. One thing Felicia Browning Ledger had always had in spades was self confidence. Even though she'd known that Michael was gay she'd always been sure she'd get him eventually. Privately he'd always thought that part of the reason she'd never given up was because she'd had too much pride to admit that she couldn't beat him when it came to the man she'd grown up being told she'd someday marry.

The sound Felicia made was too weary to truly be called a laugh. "No. I know you too well to think that, Artie. Even if you didn't have Mr. Eames here…your pride has always been as oversized as mine. You wouldn't take him back if he came crawling."

"Yet you're still calling me Artie."

"I'm a vindictive bitch who hates to lose." She said as she got to her feet, meeting Arthur's gaze squarely. "And I lost to you. I lost."

"We both lost." Arthur corrected as he got to his feet as well. "And we both won…in different ways."

Reaching down the blonde opened her designer purse and withdrew a single photograph. Turning it right side up she placed it on the desk between them, the photo showing Arthur in Eames's arms, the two looking into each other's eyes like they were the only two people in the world.

"I thought you'd like a copy."

Arthur didn't ask how she'd gotten ahold of the picture, Felicia was very good at talking people into doing what she wanted.

"Don't worry about anyone wondering why I'm here in Vegas; I'm booked in at another spa on the other side of the strip with some girlfriends of mine. They're all paying enormous sums of money on temporary beauty fixes at the moment. I've paid off one of the masseuses; if asked he'll state that I never left the grounds. Your grandfather has sent a couple of men in the past to talk to Michael about you, so I know he's still looking for you. Why he hasn't found you given that you kept most of your name is beyond me though."

"If not for that picture you would never have found me either."

"Normally I'd take that as a challenge, but it's a little late for that."

Arthur studied her closely for a minute and then nodded in some silent understanding between the two. "I appreciate you not mentioning where I am to anyone."

"It wouldn't benefit me." Was her blunt response. "Your mother and step father are the same, if you care."

"Not overly."

"If you tell yourself that enough times maybe you'll believe it, Artie. Now show me out so that you and your handsome hunk over there can have your little fight over the trouble I've caused coming here."


	7. Don't Leave Me

Disclaimer: As always we'll own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in.

Don't Leave Me

The two men escorted Felicia back down to the casino's main level without any talking, all of them obviously lost in their thoughts and the twists and turns life had thrown at them recently. When they reached the front doors the blonde politely said good bye to each of them and then left without looking back, her stride as sure and powerful as before, though she looked, to Eames's eyes, somehow lost too in a way he couldn't put his finger on.

Once she was out of sight Eames gave a soft sigh then looked over at the man standing at his side. "I'm going to get back to work, I'll see you for supper."

Surprise and something more came into the point man's eyes. "Aren't we…going to talk?"

"We can do that over dinner too."

Eames had only taken a few steps when his lover's hands grasped his arm, the forger turning his head to see Arthur looking at him in much the same way that a clingy child probably looked at his mother the first time she dropped him off at daycare. To the bone scared at being left behind, abandoned to a place he didn't want to be.

"Don't go." Arthur pleaded softly, irrationally, but unable to stop himself. Seeing Felicia, having his past rubbed into his face by her whether she'd meant to do it or not…reminding him of old hurts and the price to be paid for wanting anything for himself. For counting on others to have your back and treat your heart with the same care he'd treated theirs. He felt raw and hurt and…scared. Scared because he knew what Felicia was like, and he'd sensed the level of emotions swimming under the charming surface his lover hid behind so well. He had no way of knowing what she had or hadn't said to Eames before he'd gotten there and…and even though he knew that Eames wasn't the type to just walk away from a fight the sight of his man walking away from him was terrifying to him in that moment. Because there was nothing that scared him more than the idea that Eames might walk away from him someday too.

Just like everyone else.

Picking up a lot of what was going on in the point man's head Eames's gaze gentled and he moved to stand in front of Arthur, lifting a hand to cup the other man's pale cheek. "I'm just going back to my rounds, I'm not planning to leave the casino at all today. And if I was you'd know about it. We'll have our little fight later, when I've got things better sorted out in my head. If we need to fight at all that is."

Calling himself a big baby, especially after he'd given Eames that speech about him being just as alpha and capable of taking care of himself, Arthur schooled his features into cool, calm lines again and nodded his head, taking a step back so that his cheek was no longer being comforted by the forger's touch. "Sorry. I'll see you at dinner then."

Eames stared at the man for several heartbeats and then held out a hand. "You want to make my rounds with me again?"

Arthur didn't even have to think about it as he quickly slipped his hand into Eames's. "Yeah."

They hadn't gone far before Arthur started to feel like a complete and utter idiot. What was he, a child? Needing his hand held, clutching the other man to him like a beloved toy he wasn't willing to share…could he embarrass himself much more? And in front of Eames of all people, which just made things that much worse. Where was a hole to fall into when you needed one?

Chuckling at the myriad of expressions crossing his lover's face Eames's squeezed the hand he held. "I'm finding your behavior adorable, luv, if that's what's worrying you."

"I'm behaving like a child."

"That you are. But you've inspired me to behave like a child plenty in the past so fair is fair as the saying goes." He loved to tease Arthur after all, and was very possessive of him. Not to mention the numerous times he'd wanted to throw a temper tantrum or cling to the point man when the job they'd teamed up for was over and Arthur had headed off with Cobbs as usual, leaving him behind until the next assignment.

Eames could act like a child with the best of them, Arthur silently agreed as he forced his body to relax as his thoughts settled down. Rubbing his thumb against the over man's skin in a small show of affection Arthur wasn't sure if he should bring up Felicia and Michael or not. Did Eames want to know about them or would he prefer to remain in the dark? Personally he'd rather not talk about them if that was an option, but he didn't see that being a possibility. Should he wait for dinner time, when they couldn't possibly be overheard? Having other people know about his past was almost as bad as Eames knowing in his books.

"This Michael guy doesn't sound like the kind of guy who would interest you."

Arthur was quiet for a thoughtful moment, rearranging his answer in his head before speaking. "I wasn't the man I am now then. Back then I liked being the one in charge, the man in the relationship so to speak. And I didn't let myself see how truly weak he was until it was too late. You're the only man I've ever been with who is as alpha male as I."

"And why is that, do you suppose?" Eames asked, deciding to take the man's statement as a compliment.

His gaze sure and steady Arthur's eyes were compelling. "Because, as Felicia stated earlier, my tastes have seriously improved."

Eames grinned. "Back at you."

)

Sitting behind his desk, trying to work, Arthur was too disgusted with himself to get anything done. He'd behaved like such an idiot, he couldn't recall the last time he'd been so embarrassed. Leaning forward the point man rhythmically knocked his head against his desk, hoping that that would knock some sense into him. And if nothing else the headache would possibly take his mind off how pathetic he'd been after they'd seen Felicia out, the man thought with dark humor.

That woman was like his unlucky charm, Arthur thought as he retrieved his totem from his suit pocket, rolling it around in his hand as he stared into space. Nothing good ever came from her visits.

And he still didn't know what she'd said to Eames before he'd arrived, and there was a lot she could say that would get him into deep trouble with his man. If she'd told his lover how close he and Michael had once been Eames might start to wonder why he didn't treat him the way he'd once treated his ex when they were together. Not that his lover would want to be babied the way he'd babied Michael, Arthur reminded himself, but he'd showered the bastard with attention when they'd been together and he didn't do that with Eames.

Eames didn't need that sort of stuff the way Michael had, Arthur told himself, then called himself an even bigger idiot for even thinking that. Of course his lover wanted to be made to feel special, who didn't want to be shown they were special in the eyes of those closest to them?

But they had a no romance rule, which meant that Eames didn't or at least shouldn't expect that from him. They shared a home, a business and a bed. They'd been together for years and would die for each other. That should be enough to convey how much they meant for each other. He shouldn't feel like he needed to-

"To man up and realize that if I don't make more of an effort and break the romance rule he might leave me not because I'm jinxed when it comes to matters of the heart but because he doesn't realize that I lo-want him to always be in my life." Arthur said out loud, refusing to use the L word even if he was alone with no one to hear him.

"Damn. I'm going to have to be romantic. Dammit."

)

When Eames entered their living quarters at dinnertime he was met by the familiar smells of some of his favorite foods. Aka take out from his favorite Chinese restaurant on the strip. Smiling as he followed his nose the forger headed into their dining room, taking in the romantic setting in one sweeping, eyebrow raising glance. The good dishes and wine glasses, the lit candles, bluesy jazz playing softly in the background. He knew a set up when he saw it, and Arthur wasn't the romantic type, so he'd given the man points for thinking of it. The question of why his lover had done it was the puzzler.

As the forger watched the point man came walking into the room with a bottle of wine, a welcoming smile on his face.

"Hey." Walking over Eames brushed his lips against his man's.

"Hi." Returning the gesture Arthur reached out with one hand to brush his fingers against the stubble along his man's jaw. "I hope you're hungry."

"In more than one way." Leaning forward Eames kissed the side of the other man's neck. "But I'll settle for some Chinese for now."

The two taking their seats Arthur removed the cork while Eames went about dividing the contents of the various cartons onto their plates, knowing from past experience what the other man liked and didn't like.

Accepting the wine glass from his lover Eames watched the man closely, his tone of voice laced with curiosity and affection. "Okay, so the way I figure it you're up to something. Either this is your way of apologizing for earlier, which isn't necessary, or you're going to tell me something I'm really not going to like. Which is it?"

Ouch. Shaking his head at himself and the forger's words Arthur's lips curved ever so slightly. "Neither of those, actually. Today, after we talked, I was thinking about how Felicia said, and I confirmed, the fact that I'm not the man I was when she knew me. I thought about all the ways I've changed and how some of those changes were good and how some of them were not so good. One of the not so good things was that I…I don't do enough to convey to you…your importance to me."

Going all gooey inside Eames's eyes softened as he teased, seeing how uncomfortable Arthur was with the whole thing. Which of course made what his man had done that much cuter. "You put up with me, Darling. That's proof enough."

"I wouldn't exactly argue with that, but I could stand to demonstrate my fondness for you this way, since I know myself well enough to know that articulating that fondness isn't likely to happen."

There was something about the man's tone that had Eames straightening up in his chair as he gave the other man his full attention. "You're usually pretty good at articulating yourself, Mr. Use Big Words Just to Confuse Me."

Arthur took a healthy sip of his wine before he answered with eyes that revealed nothing of his thoughts or feelings. "Everyone I've ever expressed great fondness for verbally has either died or betrayed me in some way. Or in the case of Dom's children are too young yet to do either." He added, trying to inject humor into a voice even he could tell lacked feeling. "I'm hardly a superstitious person…but I'm also a numbers man, and I know when to fold. So…I'll make more of an effort to…buy you dinner."

Hundreds, tens of hundreds of responses occurred to the forger, but Eames could see how much it had taken out of his lover to admit what he'd just said and insinuated. Because Arthur wouldn't have admitted to those thoughts if there wasn't a lot of emotion there that his lover couldn't make himself admit to.

So he simply reached out and squeezed the other man's hand, and then suggested they eat their dinner before it got cold.

)

They were almost done eating their dinner when the music died off, the CD having come to an end. The sound of the next CD clicking into place echoed in the silence and then new music of a different sort kicked in. Both men recognized the first song shortly after it began, sharing looks across the table as the lyrics joined the melody.

Savage Garden's, 'Truly, Madly, Deeply', Eames thought as his lips curved. Fate worked in mysterious ways sometimes.

Pushing back his chair the forger gracefully walked around the table and swept into a sweeping, over the top bow. "May I have this dance?"

Again Arthur paused for a moment and then pushed back his chair as well, taking the hand his lover offered. Getting to his feet the point man followed the forger over to a place where they had room to move and stepped into the other man's embrace, Arthur wrapping his arms around his lover's waist as he closed his eyes, moving to the beat and Eames's body.

One song slipped into another, and not all of them were meant for slow dancing, but somehow they managed to keep their movements slow and achingly intimate.

Sliding his hands up his lover's chest Eames's fingers went to the other man's tie, undoing the perfect knot with practiced tugs. When that was done he turned his attention to undoing each of Arthur's shirt's buttons, pulling the shirt tails out so that he could slide his hands over the man's bare stomach and sides.

Sighing his pleasure Arthur continued to move to the currently slow tempo while he turned his attention to returning the favor, undoing the man's tie and shirt in turn, the two men separating just long enough to let their suit jackets, shirts and ties hit the floor before moving back into each other's arms, their lips meeting with tender and deep feeling.

Keeping one hand on the small of Arthur's back Eames lifted his other to stroke his man's hair, enjoying the feel of the other man's hands at they moved up and down his back. "Bedroom." He murmured as the latest song came to an end, his lips against the taller man's ear.

Pulling back slightly Arthur framed the forger's face between his hands and sweetly kissed the other man. "Yeah. Just wait a couple minutes before coming in." Arthur's smile was seductively teasing as he trailed his fingers along the contours of the other man's body as he slowly backed away before turning to head for their bedroom.

Watching him go Eames wondered what the man had in store for him, guessing that the man had set up their bedroom for romance as well.

In the corner of his mind he couldn't stop himself from wondering how much of this was a bribe of sorts, a way of smoothing things over between them. Arthur couldn't know what Felicia had or hadn't said to him and maybe his lover was worried about that. He had been clingy earlier, if only for a few minutes. This was smashing their no romance rule to bits too.

But the man wasn't a personal rule breaker, and his lover had let him see a lot today in the personal feelings department. Deliberately. So maybe this was just a part of that too, Eames silently hypothesized, Arthur wanting to make clear how he felt about him in a roundabout way.

When the time was up Eames headed for the bedroom, smiling at the dim lights, the lit candles, and the man waiting patiently for him in their bed. Stripping off the rest of his clothes Eames set them aside and then joined his man under the covers Arthur held up for him. Straddling his lover Eames lowered his head, tenderly touching the man's cheek as he studied the beautiful eyes staring back at him.

"Make love to me, Eames." Arthur said in a low voice just above a whisper, tracing the forger's bottom lip with his thumb.

Heat flaring into his eyes Eames nodded, his lips finding Arthur's as he kissed his man thoroughly, exploring the tastes and textures of his lover's mouth as he savored them even after years spent enjoying the man beneath him. There was always something new to discover even now, Eames thought as their tongues stroked and lazily teased each other's, a thrill he'd never known in the intimately familiar. He knew all the man's curves, his secret spots and turn ons, and Arthur knew all of his.

But they still surprised each other, like now with the small, smoldering fires they built between them. The heat was familiar, but somehow just a little different, deeper, the aches inspired more deeply felt than usual.

Hands stroking over dampening flesh, heartbeats that accelerated and pumped in tandem as blood flowed hot and thick in their veins.

When hands and lips weren't enough to satisfy their hunger and waiting was no longer an option Eames's hands went to grip the other man's legs, lifting and widening them as he settled between them, taking complete control over Arthur's body as he slowly thrusted into his lover, working himself in inch by inch as he tortured them both.

Submitting completely as he gave his forger control over his body, Arthur forced his eyes to stay open as his hands moved over his lover's sweaty back in loving caresses, telling the man without words how much he was desired. How much he needed him.

And that message received loud and clear, Eames captured his lover's lips with his and sent them both to a heaven only they would ever know together.


	8. Never Ending

Disclaimer: As always we'll own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in.

Okay, this proved not to be popular so gonna wrap it up early. Thanks to those who read till the end.

Never Ending

Opening his already alert and aware eyes, Eames smiled to find them cuddling again, the silence of the room broken only by his lover's even breathing and the sound of little kitty claws on hardwood floors as their cats played with something. Good sounds to wake up to in anyone's book. Briefly Eames considered going back to sleep or waking up Arthur for some morning sex, but he'd worn the younger man out pretty damn good before and his lover got damn cranky if he didn't get enough sleep. Not that Arthur couldn't be a very adorable Mr. Crankypants, Eames acknowledged with a grin.

In the end he decided that he'd get up and…hmm, breakfast in bed as a thank you for the night before? Not a bad idea. Arthur hated crumbs in the bed but if he made French toast he could probably talk the other man into it.

Pleased with the idea Eames attempted to move, only to find out that Arthur's arms tightened around him as soon as he tried to slip out of the bed, the other man's eyes opening to look at him, still half asleep but aware enough.

"Go back to sleep, Darling." Eames instructed softly, reaching out to stroke down his lover's bedhead. "I'll wake you when breakfast is ready."

Nodding his head Arthur's eyes slowly started to close again as he mumbled a question he wouldn't have asked if he were truly awake and aware of what he was saying. "We're okay?"

Eyes warm and loving as he continued to stroke Eames smiled, his tone teasing. "Well I'll admit to still being a little peeved that you let that Michael bloke have a dog and not me, but I'll get over it. Now back to sleep, Darling. You obviously need it."

Arthur opened one eye, the lines on his face shifting into confusion. "You want a pug?"

It took Eames a moment to remember what a pug was since he didn't consider the breed a real dog. "Of course I don't want a bloody pug. Girls want pugs, for reasons I can't begin to phantom. Wait…you bought him a PUG?"

"What he wanted." Was Arthur's yawned reply as he snuggled back into the warm covers, a smile on his face now that he knew that things were back to normal. "You want little dog that's okay. Big dog no. Place too small. No pugs though. Ugly things. They look like dogs that have run into a wall a few hundred times."

Laughing at the description Eames leaned forward to kiss the top of his lover's head before getting out of bed to shower and get breakfast going. He had a feeling it was going to be a pretty damn good day.

)

Embarrassed at just how tired he was, especially since it seemed like he was trying to bite back a yawn with every breath he took, Arthur figured that another cup of coffee was going to be a must. Normally he limited his intake but getting old sucked and he'd gotten little sleep the night before and even less that morning. How Eames did love his morning sex, Arthur thought with another yawn, trying not to think about the sheets currently being washed because someone had decided his syrup didn't just belong on his toast. Not that he was complaining about that, far from it since he was still coming off that high, but he did need to give his guests their money's worth and that wasn't going to happen if he fell asleep standing up in the middle of their casino. Though they might get a kick out of it, thinking it was some sort of show for their viewing pleasure.

That was all he needed.

Pressing a hand over his lips to muffle another yawn Arthur quickly ordered a cup of their strongest coffee, double shot of espresso, and took it black this time in the hopes that the bitterness would be another jolt to his system. It seemed to work for Eames, anyway.

Though apparently the night before had energized the man as opposed to tired him out, which was so unfair given that he was the youngest but there you go. Knowing his luck the man would come sniffing around him during their lunch break hoping for a repeat, just so that he could continue to be all smug, the British bastard.

Doing his best not to make a face as he sipped from the mug he was handed Arthur idly turned his attention to the television screen, watching the captions crossing the bottom the screen since the sound was on low.

And then it crossed the screen, the name automatically registering with him so that Arthur straightened and immediately moved closer, his brain picking up three important pieces of information in the two short sentences before it disappeared to reveal the next piece of news from somewhere else in the world.

Slowly Arthur put down the mug, the slight sound it made as it hit the wood sounding like an explosion to the man's ears as every other sound in the room became muted, the people walking or sitting nearby him not even registering. It was like he was in a silent dream, the point man realized in some part of his brain, a dream where there was no sound, no life, nothing but him and his thoughts as he tried to register what was and wasn't his reality.

Moving on autopilot he shoved a hand into his trouser pocket, his fingers hitting both his Blackberry and the die he still carried around with him as a good luck piece. And for moments like this, Arthur silently added as his fingers briefly wrapped around the square piece of plastic, forcing himself to let it go for the time being. There was something else he needed to check first.

Pulling out his Blackberry Arthur's fingers flew over the buttons as he accessed his preferred search engine, typing in three keywords.

Edward Gordon II. Dead. And the current date.

Arthur stared at the links that came up and then slowly accessed the first one.

He read through five of them before he accepted what he was reading. Not that it couldn't be a hoax, it certainly wouldn't be the first time the media had reported someone dead when they were in fact still hale and hearty somewhere in the world. But logic dictated that there was really no reason why three reputable media sources would be reporting the death of his grandfather if they weren't one hundred percent sure that the old man was dead.

A small voice in his head reminded Arthur that he wasn't the only one that could fake his own death in order to get what he wanted, but he couldn't believe that his grandfather would go this far to try and flush him out. If nothing else the stockholders were probably jumping ship already in anticipation of his step father or uncle being named heir to the company. Anyone with brains would be selling their stocks off now before the news flooded the airwaves and no one wanted the shares.

So okay…odds were his grandfather had been found dead in his office five hours ago by a security guard in his building.

Putting his Blackberry back in his pocket Arthur let out a shuddered breath and then retrieved the die, turning to face the counter he'd set his mug down on, rolling the die across the smooth, walnut surface in a practiced move that was part of the ritual.

Okay then.

Pocketing the die Arthur pulled his Blackberry out again, some part of his mind chiding him for putting it away in the first place since it was obvious he needed it. But who could he call? Who could he trust? And of course he didn't need to call someone to confirm, was he an idiot?

Cursing under his breath the former point man shoved the piece of technology into his pocket and headed out without noticing the somewhat worried looks he got from his employees as he headed straight up to his office, locking the door behind him. What he needed to do wasn't ideal on a Blackberry was his only thought, Arthur booting up his laptop as he prepared to do some serious hacking.

Fingers flying over the keys the man had visited and easily hacked into two of the sites he'd needed to look into before he heard his door's handle being turned, the lack of knock tipping him off as to who it was even before the other man's voice came through the wood.

"Arthur, are you in there?"

Moving through the current site like a ghost Arthur didn't look up from what he was doing as he answered, requesting that he be left alone for the next hour.

A long, thoughtful pause followed, Eames obviously debating whether or not he should insist on being let in. They both knew that if he really wanted to get in the forger could pull it off since locks weren't something that could keep Eames out for long.

"You'll let me in in an hour." The forger stated firmly through the door. "And you'll tell me what you've been up to, understand?"

"Promise."

"All right then, Darling. I'll see you in an hour."

)

Sitting back in his seat fifty minutes later Arthur steepled his fingers together and stared off into space, his mind struggling to understand himself. Normally he was incredibly self-aware and this wouldn't be a problem, but for the moment it was. He didn't understand at all his reaction to the verified fact that his grandfather was dead. He'd hacked into his grandfather's office security and had watched it all play out, had accessed the preliminary police report and listened to the recorded 911 message sent by the security guard who'd found him. His grandfather had been logged in at the morgue and his grandmother's shrink had been called to deal with her according to phone records.

So his grandfather was in fact dead.

But he felt nothing. He wasn't happy, sad or angry. It was like a stranger had passed away.

He should be feeling something.

Why wasn't he feeling something?

He was no closer to figuring it out when he got to his feet and walked around his desk to unlock the door when the clock signaled it was time, opening it to find Eames leaning up against the opposite wall, the older man immediately looking away from his watch to meet his gaze.

Walking through the threshold as soon as his lover was out of the way Eames turned around to face Arthur, watching the man close the door behind them. And then Arthur met his gaze and Eames felt the worst of his worry dull, sensing that the man wasn't upset or hurting, just…somehow lost?

"So what's going on?"

"My grandfather died last night. It was on the television and I confirmed it online." And because he could use some input Arthur walked over and took one of Eames's hands, linking their fingers together as he continued to stare into his lover's eyes. "The news…I'm feeling nothing and I don't know why."

Bringing their joined hands up Eames kissed the back of his man's hand before letting them drop back down, mind processing what he'd just been told and what it meant to them. He was relieved as hell that the old man was not permanently out of their life, but Arthur had never been worried about his grandfather so he wouldn't be feeling the same relief. As to why the other man was feeling nothing, "Could you just be too numb by the news to feel anything?" That would make sense, he was feeling more than a little numb himself. In all the scenarios he'd imagined over the month, including kidnappings, inceptions and shootouts, he hadn't ever considered that the old bastard would just keel over dead without a helping hand.

It figured that Arthur would be right about that in the end.

He'd already considered that possibility and rejected it. "No. I've been numb before and this isn't the same. It's like my mind has decided that the news has no impact on me and its wondering why the hell I think I should care or react."

Considering that Eames was silently for a minute or two before he proposed an alternative explanation that felt right to him.

"You aren't feeling him because in your mind he's no one to you. The person you are now is someone he never knew and vice versa. His death changes nothing in your life so your genius brain can't begin to compute why you should care. You have a very black and white mind, Darling."

Arthur mulled that over, getting the feeling that Eames was onto something with that. Over the years he'd imagined possible scenarios of what could happen if his grandfather were to ever find him. He'd imagined a showdown between them, what he would say and tell the old man, how he would rub it in the bastard's face that he'd destroyed everything he'd worked for when he'd chosen to disown his only grandson. The planning had been somewhat enjoyable, but he'd never seriously anticipated it happening. As for the company, well it wasn't in ruin yet, so maybe he'd feel something when that happened. But there were people who were going to suffer because of its destruction so that would probably overshadow his enjoyment.

Squeezing the hand he held Eames posed a question that had started circling around in his brain. "Do you intend to go to his funeral?"

"What? No. I'm fine with everyone continuing to think I'm dead." Arthur's lips curved in the slightest of smiles. "Though I would derive some small, primitive enjoyment at having the chance to shove the fact that I'm involved with a taller, buffer, infinitely sexier Brit in Michael's face."

"Well Felicia might spill the beans yet and you'll still get your chance." Eames purred out, half hoping that it would happen just so that he'd have the chance to stake his own claim and thanks the bastard for being such a colossal dumbass.

"Maybe." Arthur agreed, though he doubted it.

Moving in close Arthur wrapped his other arm around the forger's waist, drawing them closer together as he leaned his forehead against the other man's. "It's probably not a good thing that I'm not upset about his death. He was my own flesh and blood. I should feel something. Even he would have felt something when he heard I'd died. That might have even been what set off his final heart attack for all I know. I mean mostly he would have been upset because of his lack of heir but…no, scratch that, his reaction would have been all about his lack of heir but that's still feeling something technically."

"If you're suggesting that you're anything like the ass who fathered your mum, well that's just stupid. And you're not stupid. You love truly and unconditionally, Darling, if you didn't you'd have shot Dom for nearly putting the lot of us in limbo before. And you definitely wouldn't have it in you to feel pity for the other members of your family whose lives have been just as negatively affected as yours by your grandfather and still left you in the cold."

"What Dom did was wrong but he did do it as much for his children as himself so I've mostly forgiven him…and the rest of my family didn't have my dad for a father. But I get what you mean too." Even though he'd said to hell with love after his loved ones had deserted and betrayed him, he'd still developed a bond with Dom and Mal, had mourned her death right alongside his friend. He loved the children his two friends had made together, he loved the cats he shared with Eames, and he just plain loved Eames.

So yes, Arthur thought as he closed his eyes, trusting the other man to keep him up as he leaned against Eames for support. He was capable of loving still.

Which was why he was perfectly calm and accepting of what had happened, Arthur realized as a flash of clarity zinged through his brain, giving it the answers it sought. He wasn't reacting to the news of his grandfather's death because as Eames had said, he tended to view things in black and white. It was what made him so good when it came to being a point man and so ill-suited for the out of the box thinking Eames and Dom were known for.

At the end of the day his mind knew that the death of his grandfather wasn't important because no matter what scenario had come into play it was always going to end like this. He'd been anticipating the old man's death for years, just as he'd planned his life around Eames once they retired. The life he was living was built around the man holding him and in no way did his grandfather's death impact his life with Eames and therefore it was barely registering emotionally.

To his straightforward, ever logical brain, if it didn't affect his life with Eames he didn't give a damn.

And it was that thought that had Arthur's logical brain coming to the conclusion that he'd been behaving like an idiot in another area of his life and that that needed to be remedied ASAP.

"Eames?"

"Hmm?"

"You do know that if you ever tried to leave me I'd shoot you, right?"

Not quite sure where that had come from, especially given what they'd been talking about moments before, Eames answered with amusement in his voice. "So if you can't have me, no one can? That's not very modern thinking of you, Darling."

"And your point would be?"

"My point would be, my darling point man, that that's never going to happen. But if I should lose my mind and try, well then I promise not to hold it against you that you shot me." Eames framed the other man's face between his hands. "Mind telling me why we're talking about you shooting me? Should I be worried?"

Reaching up Arthur placed his hands over Eames's as he looked his lover dead in the eye, his tone solemn. "I can lose everything in this world but you. Nothing else matters but you."

Swallowing hard Eames smiled weakly and used the words Arthur was obviously still wary of using, unable to stop himself. "I love you too."

Just to be contrary Arthur tried to hide his reaction to the declaration by pointing out that he hadn't used the L word, uncomfortable with all the emotion in the room and how tempted he was to return that sentiment, especially since he could see just how much his man meant it.

Laughing, Eames pressed his lips against Arthur's, the two arguing the point in between kisses until they decided they'd argued enough…for the time being.

This was them after all.

Arguing was just one more way they said 'I love you'.

The End


End file.
